


The Haunting Hill

by artisturtle



Category: Glee
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M, Fantasy, Finntana Friendship, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pezberry Friendship, Supernatural/Paranormal, quinntana friendship, the slowest burn ever
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27522622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artisturtle/pseuds/artisturtle
Summary: After Santana's parents die in a freak car crash, she has no other choice but to live with her grandparents in their country estate, which is located in the backwoods of Lima, Ohio. At first, she finds nothing out of the ordinary in her Abuelo's estate - except maybe for the sheer abundance of bees, butterflies, and hummingbirds in the garden...oh and of course, the size of her grandparents' owned land.But then again, the land holds secrets it will always keep.UPDATED EVERY FIFTH AND TWENTIETH DAY OF THE MONTH (UTC+8:00).
Relationships: Dani/Santana Lopez, Finn Hudson/Santana Lopez, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Rachel Berry/Finn Hudson, Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray, Santana Lopez/Brittany S. Pierce
Comments: 10
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I found a photo of Cory and Naya circulating around Twitter, and I really think that somehow Finn and Santana had been really good friends. I love to see them be best friends and act like quasi-siblings.
> 
> There's this story I read from my childhood. I thought, what nice way to mash these two up? I have always loved fantasy and adventure, worlds of elves and dwarfs and magic and wizards. I've grown up in bedtime stories of thieves and princesses, dragons and ghouls. So, I thought, it'd be good to see our favorite Gleeks being in this wonderful universe of magic and adventure.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you'll love and enjoy this. Please make sure to leave a comment below. This is a multi-chapter fanfic, and I'm trying to do a twice-a-month update, probably in the fifth and the twentieth day of each month. 
> 
> Pairings in this story are mostly a slow burn (a very slow burn indeed), and the story focuses more on Finn and Santana and their friendship as well as their adventures. We do get our pairing moments, though. I promise you that.
> 
> So, for those who step into this world of adventure, welcome my friends -- and I do hope you'd find adventure ahead!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own Glee and its characters. This piece is unbeta-ed, so mistakes and typos may be present. Also, I am not a native English speaker, so you'd probably run into more than one or two errors along the way, despite me trying to minimize these from happening.

**_For Naya and Cory,_ **

**_The Universe will never be the same_ **

**_without their Magic_ **

* * *

She’s in the middle of her Finals test when Mrs. Johnson, her school’s guidance counselor, saunters into the classroom in a flurry of skirts. The middle-aged woman leaned over to whisper something to Mr. Price, who is administering the test.

“Santana,” Mr. Price calls for her and she lifts her eyes away from her test questionnaire.

“Yes?”

Mr. Price’s green-eyes glinted as he runs a hand through his thinning brown hair, and he nervously wipes a sheen of sweat over his balding forehead. His throat bobbed nervously. “You’re needed at the principal’s office. Mrs. Johnson is here to accompany you.”

Mrs. Johnson worries her bottom lip, her dark, curly hair bobbing as she shivers a little. Her brown eyes worriedly flit from Santana’s eyes to the back of Mr. Johnson’s head. She clears her throat slightly. “You can bring your bag with you, Santana.”

“Mr. Price, I’m not done with my test yet,” she says.

Mr. Price’s eyes flit to Mrs Johnson’s, and the dark-skinned guidance counselor approaches Santana softly. “That’s okay, Santana. You can finish it later. For now, Principal Wong needs to have a word with you.”

She consciously makes the walk outside of her classroom towards the principal’s office, her sneakers making squeaky sounds against the linoleum tiles. At this time, when everyone is still busy taking their Finals, the hallways are empty.

The walk is quiet. Mrs. Johnson walks beside her, keeping at her pace. Santana could feel the nerves eating away at her. She had not done anything that had violated school rules. Looking up at the teacher beside her, she resolves to ask her.

“Mrs. Johnson?”

The woman turns to her, slowing her own pace to match Santana’s. “Yes?”

“Am I in trouble?” Santana asks. “I can’t remember doing anything wrong.”

It’s not true though, she had put a hunk of ham and cheese sandwich in Bobby Warner’s locker last week and it smelled like rotten eggs by the time Monday came -- but of course, Mrs. Johnson doesn’t need to know that.

Mrs. Johnson stares at her, a distraught look gracing her features. “I...you’re not...you’re not in trouble, Santana.”

They take a left turn and walked a little more until they both reach the principal's office. They see Principal Wong with his back turned from the office door, seemingly too engrossed in a seemingly-important phone call.

Mrs. Johnson ushers her in and lets her sit on the couch. Principal Wong has just finished his call. He turns to Santana, his face long and somber.

"Wh-what's going on?" Santana squeaks, her voice little and small.

"Santana...we…have bad news," Principal Wong says, and he sighs as he takes off his glasses.

Santana feels the couch dip beside her, and she side-eyes Mrs. Johnson hovering close to her side. When she turns to Mrs. Johnson and ask her what is going on, Mrs. Johnson just shakes her head and a single tear escapes from her left eye.

"What is happening?" Santana asks, and there's suddenly a dead weight sinking at the pit of her stomach.

"There's been…" Principal Wong starts, seemingly unable to finish the sentence. He clears his throat again. "Your parents, Santana...they've been in an accident."

At the mention of the word, Santana's head snaps up. She swallows thickly. "But...but they're okay aren't they? It's bad...but they're okay?"

Santana could feel the sob tearing through her throat. Her parents were in an accident. They're probably strapped into hospital beds right now, injured or worse --

_She doesn't think about that._

She stands from her seat, and she feels Mrs. Johnson stand as well and she feels a hand clasping her arm. She asks Mrs. Johnson the same question.

"They're okay, right? It's...serious...but…" 

She struggles to form the words and as she watches the tear-stained cheeks of her guidance counselor, Santana finally **_understands._ **

It's as if someone has poured a bucket of ice-cold water right over her, drenching her in mind-numbing coldness.

**_They did not call her to tell her that her parents were in an accident. They called her to tell her that her parents are gone._ **

The bell rings, drowning out Mrs. Johnson's reply and signaling the end of class. Students pour out into the hallway, and some of them pause for a while in confusion as they see the fiery Latina crumbling into Mrs. Johnson's arms in the middle of Principal Wong's office.

Mrs. Johnson stays by her side throughout the day. Rather than letting her go home to her house, Mrs. Johnson lets her spend the night at her apartment instead.

In the morning, she wakes up to the smell of Mr. Johnson's cooking and the large tabby yowling by the window sill. She pads to the kitchen, and she finds her Abuelo sitting in the breakfast nook with Mrs. Johnson.

The memories of yesterday flood her and it bubbles and it gurgles like a spring as her Abuelo gathers her in his arms.

"It's okay, _mija_. I'm here for you now," her Abuelo whispers to her. Somehow, it only made the past twenty-four hours more real.

They hold each other like that for a while, until she becomes calm enough. Abuelo gathers her belongings and profusely thanks the Johnsons for their help.

Santana follows Abuelo to the car as he gets ready to leave. Their drive to the house is silent and quiet, only punctuated by the radio.

It's only then, when the silence of the house embraces her, that Santana finally realizes the gravity of the events ever since Mrs. Johnson had pulled her out of her English test yesterday: she's Santana Lopez, the orphan.

She doesn't remember much after the next few days. She doesn't get out of bed, but her Abuelo had been most accommodating, leaving meals for her during mealtime, despite the meals being relatively untouched. She attends the funeral, but her unseeing eyes refuse to see through the sadness. Her Abuelo holds her hand throughout the ceremony.

After her parents funeral, Abuelo invites Mrs. Johnson and Principal Wong for dinner, and then discussed plans for Santana's continued education.

"I'd rather she spend the next few years with me in Ohio," Abuelo says gruffly. "Carlos is my only child and Maribel's sister lives overseas. There are no other family members around."

"Pardon, but what about her other grandparents?" Principal Wong asks. A strange look passes between them.

"Deceased," is all Abuelo says.

Principal Wong skewers his fork into the steak. "Then taking her with you would be most prudent, I suppose. The administration can arrange the school transfer. With the summer ahead and her junior year of high school still a few months away, we can accommodate what needs to be done, Mr. Lopez. Whatever you need of."

"Surely, we have to ask Santana about her opinion on this," Mrs. Johnson interjects, looking worriedly upstairs, where the girl in mention is currently in. "It is not easy for you to lose a family and then be pulled out of the very place you grew up in."

They all consider it for a moment. The Lopez patriarch nods. "I am considering it, but I think it'll be more proactive if she stays with me rather than here. This house has been paid in full, with no existing mortgages or any liabilities and Santana's parents had set her up for a college fund apart from the hefty sum of money they have accrued for her in the bank. I can't let a sixteen-year old on the loose with that amount of money and without adult supervision."

"A teenager who has gone through a very traumatic life experience a sixteen-year old could experience," Principal Wong supplies.

"Exactly," Abuelo says. "Family needs to stick together. Especially when the going gets rough."

The two adults nod in acquiesce at the Lopez patriarch's decision, feeling sorry for both the elder Lopez, and the girl upstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it for this time, folks!
> 
> As for the subject of my other existing fic in here, yes, it's still going on and the updates are still going to be up by the twentieth. If you haven't checked it out yet, kindly have a look at it.
> 
> If you enjoyed this, please let me know.
> 
> As a final note, I would like to remind everyone, please stay safe, spread kindness, do no harm, wear a mask and drink your water. Peace and Light, my friends.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello!
> 
> I hope the ball had started rolling during the last chapter and this story had taken your attention. So, without further delay, wear your adventure and reading caps on, and let's get on with the story.

She watches the foliage rush past her, the eaves of trees a continuous green blur. The car radio is playing a song from the 1970s, one that she's not familiar with. Abuelo is sleeping on the front seat, snoring slightly. The music lulls Santana to sleep.

They're driving through the endless highway through the forested mountains of Ohio. They had landed in Columbus late in the morning that day, where a curly-haired man named Will had met them at the airport gate to drive them home.

Abuelo lives an hour away from the downtown part of Lima, Ohio. The town itself is sleepy, with only a few establishments, a few grocery stores, a local market, some arcade games and a cinema. It's not much by all means, and the quaint little town is the very distinct opposite of New York City where Santana grew up in.

"We're almost there," Abuelo twists in his seat out front to face her. "Home's just off the highway."

The car starts to climb a steep grade. Once or twice, there are mailboxes. Sometimes, Santana could see a portion of a house or a roof. Sometimes, there's only just a long driveway.

Will steers the car to a left turn, and they start driving through a narrow road. The road gets steeper and steeper. Will makes another left turn and they come to a pebbled driveway. The car tires crunch over the gravel. There's a rusty-red mailbox at the end of the driveway.

Farther up the driveway, they come upon a wrought-iron gate connected to a wall overridden by heathers and ivy clumps. The wall disappears into a thicket of trees. Will gets out of the car to open it and drive through. Once inside, Will gets out of the car again to lock it.

After a few minutes of driving slowly through the cobbled driveway, there's still no house in sight. Santana wonders if the driveway is endless. She wondered if her Papi had grown up here.

She suddenly remembers about them and she's washed away with an utter, helpless feeling of sadness.

Abuelo turns to her. "It's just beyond the hill, Santanita. Won't be long until we're home," he says assuredly, and his open face somehow sends a surge of comfort.

**_Home._ **

This is her home now.

The car bucks as it crosses a small bridge running across a creek and starts to climb a shallow slope. Here, the trees stop abruptly and the house comes into view.

The house is big. It's not enormous, but it massively stands above the trees, looming like an old father. Made of gray stone and dark wood, the house looks old but in good repair. A large, deep porch bears balusters made of dark, shiny wood. 

The grounds around the house are impressive -- with neatly-trimmed grass, and a hedge that went around the yard and the house, separating it from the woodland beyond them. There's a quiet, bubbling spring in one corner, with a small pool filled with blooming lilies. Flowers bloom in the flower garden next to the spring. The tops of a red roof of a large barn emerges behind the woods.

A tall boy wearing a checkered shirt, faded jeans and a lopsided smile emerges from the large oaken door of the house. He wears a lumbering gait, and his smile breaks into an infectious grin when he sees the car as it slows down.

"Will!" the young man waves cheerily, his gait rather awkward and clumsy as he stands on the porch. "And Abuelo Lopez!"

A short girl around her age follows the tall boy outside. She wears a preppy smile on her face that makes her look like a Cheshire cat. She gives a small wave at them. Santana thinks it’s the shortest girl she had ever seen her entire life. The girl barely comes up to the tall boy’s chest as they start down the steps of the porch. Upon closer look, Santana realizes that both the boy and the girl are just in their teenage years.

Will gets out of the car first, just as Abuelo opens the door. Will and the boy unloaded their bags from the car trunk, and Santana grabs the small duffel bag she had kept with her.

Will had settled the bags on the porch, the tall boy helping him with the stuff, while the short girl had engaged in a rather private conversation with Abuelo. She asks about his trip, and finally tells him that things are just the same in the house.

"Where's Abuela?" Santana asks, noting the absence of her grandmother.

"She's with her sister Maria in Connecticut," Abuelo answers shortly. He turns to Santana. “I suppose we could do with some introductions,” he finally says as Will starts to stow the bags into the hall.

Santana has no idea who Maria is. “When is she coming home?”

Abuelo sighs. “I’ve no idea. Maria was dying the last time your Abuela called me. Something called diverticulitis? I don’t know what it’s called, but her sister couldn’t poop. Anyway, introductions, as I have promised.”

Abuelo grabs the tall boy’s arm. “This strapping young lad here is Finn, Will’s nephew and a helping hand in the farm,” he says and the tall boy raises an awkward hand at Santana. “And this is Rachel, our housekeeper,” he introduces the short girl, who shoots her arm right at Santana’s face.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Rachel says, almost pleased with herself. Finn, on the other hand, seems like he just remembered his manners. “I’ve heard a great deal about you, over many fine dinners with your grandparents.”

Finn fumbles on his jeans and stumbles on his words as he awkwardly sticks his hand out for Santana to shake. “Pleased to meet you, Santana.”

Finn gathers the last of the bags and they all enter the house. Rachel had proceeded in advance to the kitchen and laid forth refreshments. The glossy wood reflects the streams of light coming in from the tall windows. There’s an arrangement of fresh flowers on the mantle. Just above it, there’s a painting of a fox hunt.

On one corner of the room, there’s a hollowed-out portion where a throw rug covers most of the floor. There are couches with throw pillows, with lamps artfully nestled in sconces in the corners. Through tall, glass windows, the area overlooks a lake just beyond, and there are perhaps a hundred books in the bookshelves at one end of the nook. A crystal chess piece rests on one of the end tables while an upright piano is pushed far into the corner. Like the house itself, much of the furnishings look antiquated.

Will is heading up the stairs with the suitcases, while Finn ushers them all to the kitchen, where Rachel had already served the refreshments on the glossy mahogany table. There are small bite-size cakes, a platter of fresh-baked cookies and lemonade. Finn dug into the cookies in an instant, and Rachel swats his hand away.

“Guests first,” she chides. The tall boy shifts uncomfortably on his feet, and he sullenly returns the cookie he had taken from the platter.

“Have some refreshments first. You just had a really long trip,” Rachel offers Santana, and she pours her a tall glass of lemonade. When Santana accepts it, Finn takes his cookie and shoves it into his mouth. He goes for another cookie and still another when Rachel glares at him.

“Easy on the sugary treats, Finn.”

It almost amuses Santana how Finn gets told off by a girl almost half his size, but she suddenly feels really sorry for him as he looks like a kicked puppy. He looks so sullen and Santana had been watching him for a long time, and she almost misses what her Abuelo is saying.

“Okay, why don’t you show Santana to her bedroom, Rachel?”

Rachel brightened up at the idea, and she tugs at Santana’s hand. “Come, I’ll show you to your bedroom. You’ll love what we did with it.”

She barely has a word in as they leave the kitchen, where Abuelo is giving Finn some instructions about the walnut farm. Will had just come downstairs, and Rachel gives her a small smile as they meet him on the stairs. They come up to the second floor, but Rachel turns and they head for a narrow set of stairs that probably leads to the attic.

The stairs are small and stuffy, but it’s carpeted, clean and well-lighted. “Your Abuelo thought you’d love the attic,” Rachel says, her voice stained with a hint of pride as they come up to a door made of dark wood. “It had a very nice view of the woodlands beyond the lake.”

The long hallway leading to the attic room is dark. Rachel turns the light and yellow light floods in. To Santana’s surprise, the attic does not look gloomy. The walls are painted with cream, and enough light is streaming through the open windows. A small bed is pushed in one corner, there are shelves crowded with books, a wardrobe, an easel, a dresser and a small desk with a straight-backed chair.

Suddenly a large, fat cat jumps from the dresser and yowls at them lazily. Santana yelps in surprise while Rachel looks with a bored expression.

"Oh, so this is where you've been hanging out since this morning," Rachel speaks at the cat. "Eager to meet Santana, are you?"

The cat yowls again, as if answering Rachel's question.

"Fine," Rachel says with a dramatic roll of her eyes. "Santana, this is Tubbers. Tubbers, meet Santana."

Santana watches with weirded-out eyes as the cat yowls.

The shorter girl scoops the cat up, the large feline mildly yowling, seemingly unapproving of the unceremonious way it had been lifted off the floor.

"Why don't you get settled down? I'll call you when dinner is ready," Rachel offers and she marches out of the door, the fat cat in tow.

She just changed to more comfortable clothes when there's a knock on her door. When Santana opens the door, she realizes it's her Abuelo. The cat is with him, flitting between his legs. The cat yowls at Santana, and prances around the room before finally settling on the bed.

"I see that you have met our infamous house cat," Abuelo says. He's still in the clothes he wore since New York. "And she looks like she fancies you."

The cat hisses at Abuelo and Santana chuckles.

"She must have heard you," Santana finally says. It must be the change of scenery, but she feels a little lighter. 

"Never liked me much," Abuelo says. "Rachel found her in the yard one day, just when she was still a mewling kitten. Now she's just a big ball of useless fur."

The cat yowls angrily. A laugh falls off Santana's mouth and she immediately clamps up when she realizes it.

Abuelo shoves his hands into his pockets. "There's no such thing as too soon," he says with a shrug. "They'd be happy to see you smiling again."

He shrugs again, and he turns on his heels. On his way out, he leaves a set of keys on the table. They're labeled according to the locks they open and there are four: two regular-sized keys with labels of FRONT DOOR, BACK DOOR and BEDROOM. The other one, a rusted, small key with no labels whatsoever.

Santana mentally takes down a note to ask her grandfather about it at dinner as she pockets the keys.

Half an hour later, Rachel calls her downstairs. She sees Finn getting out from one of the rooms on the second floor. Will comes in through the back door, still in his work clothes. By the time she had seated herself on the table, Rachel had finished setting up their dinner.

Their meal is a mellow affair. Finn and Will are sharing accounts of how their work is going. Santana finds out that apart from a walnut farm, her Abuelo also had a vineyard. Rachel had given Abuelo an update on how the winery is going on.

"Excellent steak," Abuelo compliments, and Rachel blushes a little. "Despite the fact that you don't eat meat."

Will hums in agreement.

"Anyway, I think for the benefit of everyone, I must inform you of dire news," Abuelo says. "Tick season is upon us."

Finn perks up. "What?"

Abuelo drains his water. "So, Will and Rachel are somewhat familiar of what tick season is, but for kids like you Finn, who hasn't seen a Ohio tick season since you moved with us here three months ago, and for Santana, who lived in New York where ticks are probably not as rampant, summer is tick season."

The table is quiet. Rachel stands to fill the carafe of water.

"Have you ever heard of Lyme Disease?" Abuelo asks. 

Finn shakes his head, seemingly lost. He looks helplessly at Santana, who just wears a confused look on her face.

"Anyway, ticks are nasty little buggers. You can't see them, well not until they are filled with your blood and they bloat up five times their size. And they bring all sorts of diseases with them, not just Lyme disease," Abuelo continues. "So, to prevent tick infestation and to prevent you from getting sick, you are hereby banned from going into the woods under any circumstances. Stay on the lawn. Do you understand?"

Santana nods. Finn nods dutifully.

"Also, the barn is off-limits. There are machines and equipment there that may prove dangerous," Abuelo adds. "I'm going to have a hoe getting stuck into your throat because you were not paying attention."

"There's no TV?" Santana asks.

"No TV," Abuelo confirms and Finn visibly deflates. He looks at Finn. "Why is it you kids ask for TV so much these days? Finn asked me that three months ago."

Finn snorts. "Are you ever getting one?"

Abuelo rolls his eyes. "Goodness, no! Do you take me for a fool? TVs rot your brains," he says laughingly.

“What about a computer for school?” Santana asks. “Since I’m moving in, so how are we ever getting homework done?”

Will raises his hand. “There are computers at school.”

Abuelo sighs. “And besides, school’s a few months away, I’m sure we could find a way to decide what we’re supposed to do by then.”

Finn sighs, sounding hopeless. “So you’re not buying a TV?”

Abuelo just laughs -- a lot.

That night, Abuelo tucks her in. That night, she has her first nightmare.

She's standing in the middle of the road, a car careening towards her. She watches helplessly as the car passes her by, and she's transported into the backseat of the car, watching as her parents helplessly careening off into the darkness.

She starts to scream.

Her parents are gone off into the darkness, leaving her in the mound of steel wrapped against steel and broken glass.

When she turns to her side, she could see her parents, bloody and mangled and lifeless. Their lifeless eyes are hauntingly staring at her.

Suddenly, it gets harder to breathe.

Then, hands are picking her up, rocking her. Through the tears, she could see the moon peering down at her, a murky pale lamp of golden light.

"You're okay," a voice tells her calmly. "Breathe with me, come on."

She realizes the voice belongs to a boy. She recognizes him and his voice: Finn. She rubs her sleep-filled eyes and the last vestiges of the nightmare disappears from her view. The darkness is replaced by an innocent boy's light-brown eyes filled with worry.

"Are you...are you having a nightmare?" he asks, grimacing a little at how tight she's clutching at him. He unintentionally points his flashlight at her, and it makes her squint.

"Jesus, put the light away," she almost sulkily says. "And get out of my room, Finn."

Finn shines the light again at her face before shining it back at his. "I'm not going to, not until you tell me if you had a nightmare or not."

Santana rolls her eyes. She doubts if Finn could see it, but she rolls her eyes nonetheless. "Go away," she tells him.

Finn mutters a bit before stomping at the end of her bed. She feels the bed dip. Finn shines his flashlight again.

"I'm not leaving."

Santana sighs. "Fine. Yes, I had a nightmare. I dreamt about my parents."

It's quiet for a moment. Then, Finn shuffles towards her. He flips the flashlight on, but he's not a jerk this time and he points the light to an empty space on the wall opposite Santana's bed. 

"I'm sorry," he finally says. "I...I guess that makes the two of us." 

Santana stares at him, not quite sure what to say to that bit of information about him. Under the dim half-light, he shuffles awkwardly under her glare.

"I guess...Abuelo explained why he had to leave for New York in a rush," he says weakly. "I'm not sure the specifics of it, though. Only that you and I are...kinda like...similar."

Santana hears him shuffle, probably to get closer. "I know exactly what you need," he says as he pulls her out of bed. "Come on."

The two of them tiptoe through the dimly-lit hallway. Finn's room is wide open, there's soft snoring coming from Will's room and a loud snoring from Abuelo's room. Rachel's room still has the lights on.

"We gotta be quiet," Finn whispers as they reach the bottom steps of the stairs. "Rachel's probably still awake."

"Where are we headed?" Santana whispers back. She doesn't particularly like sneaking around the house at night, but Finn's big hands are clasped tight around her own and this is better than sitting on her bed drenched in sweat from her nightmares.

Finn manages to get through the kitchen and sneaks into the pantry behind it. There's a large cookie jar on the top shelf and he doesn't have difficulty reaching up for it. He takes two from the jar. Rummaging through the fridge, he finds a carton of milk and he pours them into glasses.

"I can't heat them," Finn says almost apologetically. "If I do, the kettle will whistle and it'll wake the entire house. Rachel especially."

Santana watches as Finn expertly returns the jar back into the shelf and the carton back into the fridge as if no one had touched them.

Finn sits on the counter as Santana finds a seat on a stool. They nibble on the cookies and quietly sip on the milk.

"My parents died in a plane crash three months ago."

Santana almost misses the softest whisper she's ever heard. Finn is nibbling on his cookie, the crumbs falling on his shirt. He's staring at the empty wall just above the stove.

"When I first came here to live with Will, I got really upset, and I frequently had nightmares," he tells Santana. "Rachel made me cookies and it did calm me down. You were having a nightmare and I thought maybe they could calm you down, too."

Santana smiles a little. "That's...that's actually nice and sweet."

Finn shrugs. "The day I came here, your Abuelo told me I became family the moment I stepped into the gates of his estate," he says. "Helping you with your nightmares is the least I could do."

Santana smiles. "Still, thank you."

Finn gives her a grin. "Don't mention it," he says. Wagging his eyes and suppressing a laugh, he adds, "...especially to Rachel."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it for now folks!
> 
> NEXT UP: Santana notices something really weird going on in her Abuelo's house.
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to read through this, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you have enjoyed or if you just want to show me some love and appreciation, please do not forget to leave comments below.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still not mine. Still broke. Still unbeta-ed.

The next morning, Santana sits across her Abuelo as they eat breakfast. The others had already gone ahead to attend to their tasks. Rachel is outside, tending to the garden and Tubbers is trailing behind her.

Rachel has laid a platter of bacon rolls and eggs, fresh toast, milk and a bowl of slurpy, creamy material that tastes sweet to the tongue.

"What's this?" Santana asks as she takes a spoonful from the bowl for the third time.

"Cream of wheat and raspberry preserve," Abuelo says. "Packs a healthy punch. The raspberries are from our own lands. Not for sale, but they taste good."

Santana's brow quirks. "Just how much land do you own?"

Abuelo smiles. "More than my share."

"Can I go outside today?" Santana asks. She doesn't know if she should, but she feels like she had to ask that anyway.

"Sure," Abuelo says brightly. "There's a pool out back if you want a swim. You can also visit Finn at the vineyard later this afternoon. I think he'll be helping Will with destemming the grapes. As long as you keep out of the forest and the barn."

Santana shrugs. "I might."

Abuelo smiles at her again. "You are among friends here, Santanita."

She doesn't know what Abuelo means by it, so she decides to change the topic of their conversation. "When is Abuela coming home?"

Abuelo shrugs. "Depends on Maria, really. It could be in a couple of days, maybe a couple of months."

She sighs. "I'm kind of bummed I missed her."

"Well, she's sorry as well," Abuelo says. "She's been looking forward to seeing you, you know? Maybe not in this dreadful situation, but she wanted to see you."

Santana shrugs. "It's okay," she tells him. "It's not like I'm going anywhere, either. I'll be here when she gets back."

Abuelo hums. "Well, that's true," he finally says after sometime. He pushes himself off the table and stands. "Anyway, I have to get going. If you go swimming, make sure you wear sunblock. I'll see you later."

"At lunch?"

Abuelo shakes his head. "Probably not. I have lots of work to do. Rachel will keep you company."

Later on during the day, Santana dons on her black bikini and heads to the pool. She wears a large sun hat and carries a pretty handheld mirror that she had found on her dresser.

The sky is a whitewashed blue, with no clouds in sight. A slight breeze blows over the backyard, making soft ripples against the pool water. It's a very good day for swimming.

Santana sets her towel and the mirror down the recliner before taking a look at the surroundings. Like the front yard and the house, the backyard is also kept perfectly maintained. The pool is lined with slate and smooth rocks to look like a pond, with a dark bottom to maintain the illusion that it's deep. Footpaths made of gray slate meander between trees and flowers, leading to the forest and perhaps to other places of the property. The garden is full of life. Hummingbirds and bees and butterflies and dragonflies of every size and color flit about. Many of these critters flock around the dark pool. A butterfly hovers above an empty birdbath.

She smears some sunblock into her body, waiting until her skin absorbs it. Once done, she dips into the refreshingly cool water. She tries to dive and reach the bottom of the pool, and she finds out that it's just at least ten feet deep.

She swims for several more minutes, belly-flopping and sometimes holding her breath underwater. Finally feeling refreshed and tired, she opts to sit on one of the recliners.

The recliner has a pretty umbrella that provides shade, and Santana spends some time brushing through her hair, enjoying the rubbery feel of her raven-black locks sticking together.

She's about to pick the mirror up when she notices something utterly peculiar.

"Rachel!" she breathes out suddenly, standing from the recliner with a bolt. She runs inside the house, through the back door that leads to the kitchen. Rachel is nowhere to be found, and the house is still and silent.

"Rachel, something really weird is going on!"

She's so busy trying to attract attention that she doesn't notice the large body hulking carry crates towards her way. Three crates of berries litter the floor as Finn's large body collides with her.

"Ow!"

"Ouch!"

The berries spill into a mess on the kitchen floor. Finn scrambles to save as much as he could, and it's lucky that just a few of them had fallen off the top crate.

"Whatever's the matter, Santana?" he asks worriedly. "You look as if the house is on fire."

"Worse," she says almost warningly. "I'll show you," she says as she hurriedly tugs at his large arms as she pulls him out of the kitchen.

"What the fu--" Finn watches in amazement as they get back to the recliner, where hummingbirds, bumblebees, butterflies and dragonflies are swarming all over the mirror.

"Wh-what is...that?" Finn mutters. "Do...do insects like mirrors?"

Santana's brows furrow. She couldn't recall that bit of information from her science class. "I don't know. These ones do."

"Should we tell Rachel?" Finn asks.

"We should tell Abuelo," Santana says, heart leaping into her throat. She swallows thickly. "Take the mirror."

Finn gives her a bewildered look. "Why me?"

"I don't know," Santana shrugs. "You're taller?"

"Fine," Finn says, not really ever backing down from proving himself. He grabs the handle of the mirror. Immediately, the critters follow the mirror.

"Let's try an experiment," Santana suggests. "Put the mirror face down. I want to see if they're drawn to the mirror or just the reflective side."

Finn fumbles on his feet, carefully putting the mirror on the recliner with its face down. The two of them wait in earnest as some dragonflies flit about the mirror. Some butterflies soon flock together towards the upturned mirror. Then, the hummingbirds and the bees soon follow.

Soon enough, the mirror is swarmed again by birds and other winged critters. Finally, two hummingbirds flip the mirror, making it slide across the recliner.

"Holy cra--" Finn exclaims. "They flipped it!"

"Did you see that?" Santana screeches, but the peculiar thing is, the critters are still peering at the mirror. "That's really weird."

"Do you want me to flip it again? See if they flip it back once more."

Santana shivers as a breeze blows. "No," she tells him as she wraps her towel around her body. "I think we have seen enough here. I just want to change now. Can you bring the mirror inside?"

"Sure," Finn says with a shrug. "But I'm running. I don't wanna get stung in case the bees come after me."

Santana nods. She jogs up the path to the kitchen door slightly so she doesn't have to go last and have the risk of Finn running her over across the path. Once she's safely inside the kitchen, she holds the screen door for Finn.

Finn snatches the mirror and runs away with it. Santana watches as some of the animals give a lazy chase before scattering away.

"Well, that was really weird," Finn says as he sets the mirror on the counter top. "Just weird and weirder...or something."

Santana leans back on the counter. "What're you doing here? I thought you're not coming in until late?"

"Oh," he scratches his head. "I was bringing in some...berries."

Santana stares shrewdly at Finn, who couldn't bear to hold her gaze for more than three seconds. "You're lying," she finally says.

"I'm not!" Finn counters. "I was bringing in some berries."

Something clicks inside Santana's head. "You're sneaking out into the woods, aren't you? The berries are just a front."

Finn's cheeks brighten. "I forgot to lock the vineyard gate a few nights back, so I went back to the vineyard. As I was coming home later that night, I saw smoke trailing in the southern part of the woodland," he says. "I know your Abuelo says we shouldn't go there, but I have a very big feeling that there's something...or someone living in your grandparents' land. Perhaps without his knowing."

Santana considers it for a moment. The truth is, she's bored being stuck in the confines of the house and the yard. 

She considers Finn’s idea for a moment. He's definitely not the brightest mind in the bunch, and he had always been a decent fellow since she had arrived at the house. He's even a bit sensitive and sweet, and there's a boyish, innocent openness about him that makes Santana fall into stride with him. Going into the woods might turn out to be a bad idea -- but, how bad can it get?

"Can I go with you?" she asks, jumping blindly into water.

Finn grins, seemingly giddy at the prospect of a companion. "Only if you don't tell anyone else."

Santana breathes. “Okay, but we’re not going today. We have to make a plan and make sure we don’t get caught as much as possible, since you can’t even properly lie to yourself. Who were you kidding?”

Later that night, they’re all seated for dinner around the table. Rachel is serving them cold cuts of cured meat and vegetables. Finn shoves his food down his mouth noisily, earning him a disapproving look from Rachel.

Santana kicks him underneath the table. “I swear to everything holy and sacred, you’re just intentionally doing that to make sure she flips and lose her shit,” she whispers under her breath. Finn just chuckles.

Abuelo clears his throat, and it puts the others in attention. “So, how was today, Santana?”

Santana gives Finn a look, who only responds with a slight tilt of his head. She steps on his foot and he grimaces. “Something weird happened today, Abuelo.”

“Something weird, huh? What is it?”

“Is it normal for bugs to like...get attracted to mirrors?” Santana asks. “Look into their reflections, like that? Do they even understand what their reflections mean at all?”

Rachel snorts from her seat, very uncharacteristic who always seem to be calm and composed and so sure of herself. Santana glares at Rachel, and Finn frowns at her as well. The shorter girl manages to compose herself after a while.

“I am not sure how to react with regards to that.”

Finn shrugs at Abuelo. “Santana’s telling the truth,” he says. “We saw the bugs flip the mirror from being face down.”

Will laughs. “That is weird indeed,” he says heartily. “And totally entertaining, too. I wonder if deer could do laundry as well. With all this heat, you sure are seeing things, Finn. I’ve told you to always wear your hat when you’re out in the fields.”

“But we weren’t lying, Uncle Will!”

Rachel smiles primly from her seat. “That's enough. Bugs don’t get attracted to mirrors, Finn.”

Santana’s mouth curls into a sneer. “Yeah, and what do you think was it that we saw earlier in the pool? If you had been there, you’d be surprised and bamboozled out. Where were you anyway? I called for you but you weren’t anywhere inside the house.”

A strange look passes through Rachel’s face, as if she hasn’t expected the question. She takes a sideways glance at Abuelo and Will before clearing her throat. However, the look passes just as quickly as it had come, and Rachel is looking at them brightly again.

“I was at the barn, doing some of my chores,” she finally supplies. “Anyway, enough of this strange bug talk. Would any of you like some sugar puffs or pineapple pudding for desert?” she asks in glee as she stands from her seat.

Once Rachel is out of their view, Santana casts a look at Finn. She doesn’t believe whatever Rachel had said about being in the barn. Finn meets her look across the table, and it tells Santana that he doesn’t believe her, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it for this month, folks!
> 
> NEXT UP: Santana and Finn go on an adventure, and they meet someone.
> 
> JUST A VERY QUICK QUESTION: Should I keep a once-a-month routine or should I update more often than once a month? Let me know in the comments, please. I really want to know what you think.
> 
> Thank you so much for taking the time to read this piece. For thoughts, opinions and suggestions, let me know in the comments below! No, seriously, I thrive when you leave me comments, so please do!
> 
> Stay safe, go with Peace and Light. xx
> 
> \-- A.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I know I'm supposed to update on the fifth, but in celebration of New Year's Day, I give you a bonus chapter of the story. It's not much of a holiday present, I know. But I hope this little thing could make you all happy. I hope you will enjoy this.
> 
> Also, I would like to request for +7 kudos and +4 comments, so that we can reach my January goal of 20 kudos and 10 comments, respectively? Pretty please? It would mean the world to me.

Dressed in denim pants and long-sleeved shirts, Santana and Finn make their way through the dense woodland. Finn checks his compass once in a while, orienteering them on a southern route from the house.

"We need to hurry up," he says. "If we take too long, Rachel will figure out we've disobeyed the rules."

"You seem really afraid of Rachel, huh."

Finn chuckles. "You don't really want to make her mad and let her scold you. That girl could talk for hours, so much you'd wanna burn your ears off."

"And she's kind of an overbearing mother hen," he shrugs.

Santana laughs, and her laughter carries into the woods. The sun shines on her face through the trees and it makes her feel lighter. She remembers about her parents, and her laughter dies down her throat.

Finn is looking at her in his weird-but-not creepy way that makes her feel conscious again. It's as though he's reading her like an open book. He smiles a little bit. "It's okay to laugh. And it's okay to feel bad for laughing. It's okay not to be okay. That's just how things are."

Santana nods at him. "That's just how things are," she confirms. Santana thinks that somehow, in a weird and broken way, they had found pieces of themselves that fit together.

"Come on," Finn finally says and the moment passes. "Time for adventure," he says as they see a crooked path snaking deeper into the woods.

They've been walking for a great deal, perhaps an hour or so in a southern route when Finn halts. Santana almost bumps into his back.

"Do you see that?" Finn asks.

"See what?"

"There," Finn points to their left. Some three hundred feet from them, large deer with magnificent antlers is drinking from a nearby stream. 

"Santana, isn't it beautiful?

Santana wholly agrees. "Get closer, I don't think it'll notice."

Slowly, the two of them turn westwards, trying to make as little sound as possible as they get closer to the deer. When they're about twenty yards away, its ears perk up on alert and it gives a mad dash through the woods.

"Well," Finn shrugs. "Guess it saw us," he says.

Santana shoves her hands into her pockets forcefully. She couldn't help but grin at Finn. "At least we got close enough. Thanks for bringing me along."

Finn just gives her a goofy smile and holds out his big hands for a high-five. "We gotta turn back, though. I think we've done enough exploring for the day."

Santana is about to agree with him when something behind Finn catches her eye. Several feet from where they're standing, the land slopes to a small gorge. Down the gorge, they could see a large clump of plants and winding vines, its shape is too geometric for it to be natural.

She notifies Finn of her observation, and the tall boy shrugs. "Do you wanna check it out?"

"I don't wanna if you don't wanna," Santana says.

Finn hums a little. "Come on, let's check it out. Your Abuelo sure does love leaving a great deal mysterious stuff around."

They pick their way through the tangle, the undergrowth growing slightly denser. The plants come fairly up to their shins. The closer they get to the large square of ivy, they realize that it's a small shack overridden with vegetation. They peer around the structure for it's not possible to see what the shack is made out of through the clinging vines.

Santana circles the structure, and she almost jumps in surprise when she sees a small door open up on the far side of the shack.

"What's wrong?" Finn jogs towards her, skidding to a halt just beside Santana.

Beside the door, a wiry old woman sits on a tree stump. She sits gnawing at the knots of a rope that is wound around her body. The woman seems not to notice them, her shriveled body kept at being turned to them.

Her hair is gray and wiry, with an unhealthy yellow color. Her eyes are glassy and sunken, and her mouth is bloody from all the gnawing. Her skin is pale, with numerous scabs and insect bites, some of them purple with rot. Her bare feet are covered with lesions, and her toenails seem thick with fungus. She smells bad, as if something is decaying.

Finn lets out a gagging sound and the woman immediately turns to them. She deftly wipes the blood and saliva from her mouth and grins at them.

Santana grimaces at the sight of yellow, rotting teeth.

"Why, wise and venerable young ones, what brought you here to my humble home this fine day?" she asks in a melodious voice.

For a moment, the two teens could only just stand and stare. Santana grips tightly at Finn's arm.

"You...you live out here?" Finn finally chokes out.

"I do," the woman says. "Would you like to come inside? Some tea if you want?"

It's enough to make Santana do something. "We'd rather not," she says curtly at the woman. "We were just exploring. My grandfather owns the land."

The woman narrows her eyes at Santana. "Strange place for you to roam around. You say Hector's your grandfather?"

"Does Hector know you are here?" Finn asks.

The woman gives him a toothy grin. "Oh, he knows. Definitely knows," she mumbles.

"Why were you biting the knots?" Finn asks, his voice a lot higher than normal. "And why do you have a rope around you in the first place?"

"I don't think we should be here," she tells him. "And I don't think she should be here, either."

The old woman chuckles just before Finn could answer. "I care not for ropes or for knots," she says, her voice still holding a melodious quality to it. “I’ll show you something,” she pulls out a wooden puppet.

“What’s that?” Finn asks.

The woman laughs. “This is called a limberjack,” she says as she holds a puppet around a foot tall, with wooden hooks for joints and dark wood for limbs. It had an oval, hairless head attached to an equally bare, wooden chest. A stick juts out of its back, where the old lady grasps the other end of the stick to control the puppet’s motions. 

She puts the puppet on one of her thighs, slapping her other thigh with her palm to create a syncopated rhythm. It’s a bit irregular, but the rhythm had a melodic quality that both of the teens did not expect. The old woman kept on slapping on her thigh, the rattle of the limberjack adding to the weird, whimsical way of the music.

Finn scrunches his brows, as if he just found something very confusing. “But where’s his ax?”

Santana glowers at the back of his head. “It’s a limberjack, doofus. Not a lumberjack,” she tells Finn. The tall boy just tilts his head, seemingly not able to comprehend what the puppet is. “Come on, Finn. We should get going.”

The old woman looks up, stopping the tip-tapping motions with her hand. "Do you want to come inside? Have tea with me perhaps? I’ll let you play with him. I call him Jack. He keeps me company, maybe he’d keep you company, too."

Santana kicks the back of Finn's left shin, giving him a glare. "Actually, I think we'd like to stay here. Outside, where there is sunlight,” it comes out harsher than she intended, and the woman's smile falters.

"Are you a hermit?" Finn asks, seemingly genuinely interested at the woman and the puppet.

The old woman gives them a strange look. "You can say that I am."

"Why'd you stay here in the woods?" Finn asks again. This time, Santana gapes at him, glaring as if to say they have to get going. Unfortunately, Finn doesn’t get her cues.

The old woman stares at Santana and Finn. "Some of us good people just grew weary of society. Hold on, I'll show you something," the woman says, hobbling back into the inside of the shack.

"We should leave," Santana groans once the woman is out of sight. "I bet Abuelo doesn't even know she's here."

Finn nods. "Let's stay for a while. Hang out and get her name and then we'll be out of here."

Santana nods. "Fine," she tells him. "Just her name then we're out of here.”

The old woman gets out of her shack, hobbling with a box. It’s simple, almost six inches in both length and width, and it’s about four inches tall. A series of rune-like symbols snake along the top side of the box, but it's hard to discern. On one side of the box, there’s a large hole big enough to fit a fisted hand.

"You said you were out exploring?" she turns to Santana, holding up the box towards her. "Explorers often stumble into many great things," she says with conviction. She seems to stand a little straighter, a little bolder. She offers the box to Santana.

“Tell you what,” the old woman raises a knobby finger towards her temple. “How about you prove your courage, then? Place your hand inside the box and prove your valor...and a reward awaits you.”

Finn and Santana share a look.  _ This they know they both agree with. _

“I’d rather play with the creepy puppet,” Santana grimaces. 

“Just reach the back of the box,” she offers the box to Finn and she rattles it a bit. “Come on, it’s not so hard to do.”

“Are you a witch?” Finn asks, and the woman’s face turns sour and gloomy.

“Brave tongue and bold of you to assume that I am,” the woman says calmly, her mouth twisting into an ugly smirk. Yellowed teeth glinted in the sunlight. “You ought to support your brave words with brave actions. What say you? Reach into the box, and prove yourself worthy.”

Santana tugs at Finn’s shirt, knowing that their time in that place has been over a long time ago. Slowly, they back into the tangle of undergrowth.

“We gotta get going,” Santana braves to say. “Have fun eating your rope.”

“Such insolence coming from a scrawny urchin such as you!” the woman’s voice is still calm, but there’s menace and there’s something malevolent in it. “Why not step inside my house and have some tea? I can brew you some really good beverages.”

They’re far away enough to be able to shout. Finn cups his hand around his mouth. “Maybe next time!” he hollers, and the two of them sprint back to the path they had taken earlier, their eyes checking behind them every once in a while.

The woman makes no move to pursue them.

They plunge into the tangle of undergrowth until they come across the crooked path. They start heading back to the house, but even though the woman is not following them, they both know that they’re not safe. The woodland seems to have eyes fixed on them.

“I feel like I’m being watched,” Santana says as they stop next to a tree by the crooked path.

Finn breathes raggedly. “You’re right. I’m feeling it, too. Can you run up until the house? It’s not very far.”

Santana nods, and they start sprinting along the path.

Leaves rustle behind them, limbs of trees groaning and creaking. It’s as if a tough wind is making pursuit. Branches and twigs snag at their hair and their clothes. Acorns and small pebbles are being thrown at them, sometimes finding targets and hitting their backs. Finally, the red roof of the house shows up through the trees.

The sight of the house spur them on, and now the two of them are running at full speed. The trees around them seem to twist against the onslaught of wind, the trees and branches violently whipping at their faces and chest.

They step out of the woodland, and the pursuit immediately stops.

Santana watches as Finn dust himself off of lint and splinters, and she wonders how much of it had been her imagination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's for my little present for you all! I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> NEXT UP: Santana discovers something fishy about Rachel. Together with Finn, they discover something big inside the woodland.
> 
> Thank you so much for being part of my 2020, friends. I hope in the next years to come, we will still be sharing stories and enjoying them. Please stay safe, and I hope you all have a happy new year. Peace and Light. xx


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! It's time for another update. Whelp, it's a bit of a bummer that we didn't get to raise at least the targeted number of kudos, but no matter -- a promise of an update is a promise of an update.
> 
> So, here we are...Chapter 5.
> 
> I hope you like this. Maybe at the end of the month, we can get to 20 by then? I really hope so, fingers crossed. Hit that kudos button and leave a comment for me. I appreciate them all.

They don’t talk about their little excursion to the woods.

Well...not until dinner. Finn had knocked at her door as she’s flipping through one of the older books from her bookshelf. He flops onto her bed because she’s occupying the chair behind the desk. She grimaces at him because he hasn’t changed his clothes since their trip to the woodland and there are dirt tracks on his pants.

“You’re getting my bedspread dirty,” she laments, and Finn shoots up from her bed.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to,” he says sheepishly. “I was just thinking, maybe we should tell your Abuelo about the old lady.”

Santana rolls her eyes. “Then he’d know we broke the rules, genius.”

"Like maybe ask him if he lets hobos into his land?"

Santana rolls her eyes at Finn. "Abuelo would still know. He's smart."

Finn visibly deflates. “Oh,” is all he could say. Then, just as quickly as his eyes lost their glimmer, it’s back again. “I found something cool, though. Wanna see it?”

Santana stares at him. “If it’s another smelly old lady, I’m not up for it.”

Finn grins. “It’s not. Have you seen the treehouse yet?”

“Abuelo has a treehouse?” Santana says. She closes the book shut, springing up from her chair.

Finn, for all he's worth, knows how to lure Santana with the promise of adventure.

The treehouse is located several yards away from the back yard, nestled between two gigantic trunks of beech trees. Finn easily climbs up the wooden ladder, and he helps Santana up.

"Why is it that you never bring Rachel along with all these things? There could be three of us and thrice the fun," Santana mutters as she takes in the insides of the treehouse.

The treehouse is bigger inside than it looked outside. Sitting rugs are thrown around, there's a low table where a puzzle sits, and Finn immediately squats by the table so he can finish the puzzle he seemed to have started.

Finn shrugs. "I don't know. She seems really serious and all that. So adult-ish or something," he finally says with a tilt of his big head. "It's like I can't have fun with her. And she likes to spend time alone, I could tell."

Santana hums a little, acknowledging his answer, but she's already fiddling with the monocular telescope that stands by the west side of the treehouse. It gives her a wide view of the woodlands beyond them, the lake, the barn roof, and the house itself.

She moves the lens in a sweeping direction, and she sees Abuelo raking hay just outside the barn. She watches as Will carries something into the woods. It looks like a pie tin full of milk. Rachel, on the other hand, is carrying a basket of fruits, trudging off the path that winds down into the forest.

"Finn!" she yelps, jumping from her spot behind the telescope. "Finn you gotta see this!"

Finn scrambles up towards Santana, peering into the telescope. He frowns at the dark-haired girl. "It's just Rachel."

Santana's eyes almost roll at the back of her head. "Have you seen what she's bringing with her?"

"A basket?"

"Jesus, think Finn! Think!"

The tall boy squirms, as if he's having difficulty thinking about it. Then, suddenly, Finn's eyes pop open wide, as if he just stumbled into something quite surprising.

"Oh," Finn lets out a squeak. "Maybe she's bringing it to the hobos in the woods. Oh no, Abuelo has to know. She's stealing food for hobos!"

The way Finn had put it does not really sit right with her, so she shrugs, despite the fact that they may have discovered something really important. Besides, Rachel had been a nice person to her, even though most of the time the girl is being aloof. 

She finally settles for an answer. "Maybe later, we'd tell Abuelo. But right now, Rachel doesn't have to know that we know about her little food runs, deal?"

Finn holds out his fist for a bump, and Santana reluctantly returns it, but she smiles at the boy when he grins at her.

"Deal. We’ll just spy on her."

Santana peers through the kitchen window as she tries to ignore the annoying tapping sound as Rachel chops berries on a chopping board. Outside, the sky is an unhealthy shade of gray, and fat drops of rain falling into muddy puddles in the yard outside. 

It had been raining for quite a few days and it had been days since she and Finn had actually gotten to explore the yard, the treehouse, and the small clearing just off the yard. They have decided to stay in places where they can still see the roof of the house after their ordeal in the woods and in places Finn had already explored.

"I'm bored," she laments miserably at Rachel. "Seriously, I could just die out of boredom here. Where's Finn anyway?"

Rachel puts the halved berries into a ceramic bowl. "They're taking the grapes to the pressers."

"Is it boring work?"

Rachel nods. "I find it boring," she says. "You just turn knobs and buttons so the grapes turn to wine."

"Don't they step on it?" Santana asks.

"No," Rachel replies, her tone rather clipped and curt. "They've mechanized the pressing procedures decades ago."

"How old are you?" Santana asks. "I always feel like you're older or something. Finn thinks so, too."

Rachel sighs, picking up the berries again. "I am older than you. Finn is just a boy."

Santana watches Rachel in silence as she works with the remaining berries. The shorter girl puts them with the other halved berries in the bowl. Then, she pours sugar into the bowl. Then, Rachel methodically puts the mixture into a large pan and puts it on the stove.

"So,” Santana starts. “Have you been working here for long?” she finally asks Rachel, but the shorter girl doesn’t answer.

“Where are you from?” Santana almost rolls her eyes when Rachel doesn’t answer.

“How did you meet my grandparents? I swear to God if you don’t answer I’ll--”

“Family friend,” Rachel replies just as the thermometer on the pan makes a beeping sound. “Sorry, I was waiting for the thermometer to beep. I can’t miss it.”

Santana narrows her eyes at Rachel, unconvinced at Rachel’s poor excuse, but she lets it go when Rachel starts to speak again and she pretends to listen, even if the only thing running inside her head right now is that Finn may be right: something weird is really going on with Rachel.

“So family friend you say?”

Rachel nods. “Yes,” she says. “My parents and your grandparents go a long way back, and by a long way back, I meant a very, very long time. Do you want to taste?” Rachel says as she holds out a spoon full of red, syrupy liquid.

Santana doesn’t want to come off as someone rude to Rachel, just in case her hunch and Finn’s hunch is wrong, so she gingerly accepts the spoon and she slowly shoves it down her mouth. The syrup is warm and sweet, and it tastes like berries picked in the summer.

“They’re delicious,” she says because it’s the truth. Somehow, it uplifts her spirits a little. The sky seems a little bit brighter.

"I'm particularly hesitant to add peaches into the berries. Maybe I'll just leave the berries at that. Why don't you try this?"

Rachel holds a different spoon to Santana. This time, it tastes a little sweeter, and the flavors play nicely on her tongue.

"Should I mix peaches to all of these or I'll just do half and half?" Rachel asks.

"Half and half," Santana says exuberantly, surprising herself. Rachel wears a small smile on her face, although she seems a little bit surprised at Santana’s exuberance as well.

Rachel smiles. "We should play the piano after this. Do you know how to play the piano?"

"Not really," she tells the shorter brunette. She never bothered with musical instruments when she was a kid, even more so now. She shrugs at Rachel. "Maybe I could do a note or two, but that's probably it. I never bothered to play any instruments."

"I should teach you the piano," Rachel says. "You're never too old to learn it. Once we're done here in the kitchen, I'll teach you."

"Don't you have tasks to do, someplace else to go?" Santana incredulously asks, but Rachel just laughs.

"It's raining. We could just stay inside."

Half an hour later, Rachel is done with the berries and she tows Santana in front of the piano. She seats herself on the piano seat, but Santana firmly refuses, so Rachel just ends up playing the piano while Santana rifles through the books.

"These books are really old," Santana says, coughing out as a cloud of dust descends on her as she pulls out one of the books just above her.

"Your grandfather loves to keep old things around," Rachel says, and her voice is laced with fondness.

Santana decides to be amicable and not comment on it. "I'll go to McKinley in the fall. Is it an okay school?"

The music stops playing. It's quiet for a while, and Rachel just stares at her. "I don't go to school."

Santana scrunches her brow. "What?"

"Will, Hector, and Alma had homeschooled me," she says to Santana. "I...never really bothered with school."

"But what about college, and stuff like jobs or whatever?"

"My place is here," Rachel says, her voice flat and resolute, leaving no room for argument. "I intend to stay here for the rest of my life."

Santana snorts. "Stay here? For what? Be a hermit for the rest of your life?"

"Some good people just get tired of society, I guess."

Something cold runs through Santana's veins and a lump forms on her throat as she remembers the strange woman in the woods. Rachel seems oblivious though, and she turns back to the piano and starts playing again.

"I'll...I'll just stay in my room, Rachel. This cold weather is making me sleepy," Santana offers lamely, and she scurries towards her bedroom without looking back.

She breathes hard as she locks the door to her bedroom. She listens for footsteps coming up the stairs, should Rachel be following her. Something about Rachel is creepy as hell and she's not going to fall for the girl's amiable personality.

She pulls the chair just to barricade the door. Then, she rifles under her bed for the emergency kit Finn had given her a few days ago.

The emergency kit is a small satchel filled with what Finn thinks to be needed in an emergency: a small canister of pepper spray, a flashlight, a roll of gauze and some bandages, a pocket knife, a compass, a string, a few safety pins, and a whistle.

"When you're in trouble, whistle hard and long," Finn had instructed her when he gave her the bag. "Whistle like your life depends on it. Because sometimes, your life depends on it."

Santana settles for the pepper spray. She tries to look for something that she could use to whack any attacker with, presumably a five-foot attacker, and she grows disappointed because there's none.

She slings the whistle around her neck, gathers her emergency kit, and holds the pepper spray in her left hand as she waits for the telltale sound of footsteps climbing the stairs.

Santana waits, and she holds her breath. The much-awaited footstep or knock doesn't come.

It could have been minutes or hours, but the sound of heavy and hurried footfalls echoes through the stairwell, as though someone is stomping on the steps like a thick-headed bull. Finn hollers for her name as he stomps noisily on the stairs.

"Santana, open up! You gotta see what I found!" Finn screams, even though he sounds like he's just on the other side of the door.

Santana pulls the chair, swings the door open, heaving slightly. "Will you keep your mouth quiet?"

Finn just grins at her. "You won't believe what I just saw today."

Santana rolls her eyes at him. "Another witch?"

Finn shakes his head wildly. "No. Something cooler."

"A hobo camp?" Santana makes sure her reply to him is as sarcastic as she could get.

Finn seems oblivious, he just shakes his head and his grin grows wider. "No, it doesn't involve people."

Santana crosses her arms over her chest. "How far from the yard?"

"Not very far. Come on, if you're not going to come to check it with me, you'll miss it. I swear it's cool," Finn says almost impatiently.

"If it involves lunatics and crazy old people, I'm out."

"Your grandfather is hiding the world's most awesome park ever," Finn blurts and it sure does get Santana's attention. "Come on, let's check it out before Rachel calls us for dinner."

The two of them follow a path from the backyard that leads to the woods. Finn is stomping noisily ahead, the twigs snapping and breaking under his boots.

"I saw this trail yesterday when Will and I are coming home from the walnut farm. It kind of disappears into the woods, but if you know where to look, you'll definitely see it."

The trail disappears after some time. The house is no longer in sight and the gray sky is darker than earlier. Santana feels a heavy weight settling at the pit of her stomach.

"We should turn back," Santana says. "Rachel's probably gonna look for us anytime soon."

Finn wears a thoughtful look. "It's just here. See that hedge?" he says softly as he faces a tall clump of vines and tangles that stretches as far as they could see. "It's just here."

"Are you sure it's here?" Santana asks. Deep down, she just wishes Finn would give up and they could head back already, but Finn is busy looking for something.

"Aha! I found it! I was sure it was this hedge," Finn yelps and he starts to get onto his knees, crawling on the ground beneath the vegetation.

"You call this a hedge?" Santana snorts as Finn crawls underneath the unkempt bushes. "Seriously, you're gonna get a billion ticks just by doing that."

"Ticks are gone, they're afraid of rain," Finn mutters underneath the bushes, half of his body into the bushes. "Come on, Santana. Follow me."

"This better be good, Finn Hudson," Santana calls out threateningly as she squirms her way through the hedge, grimacing as some of the rain droplets that retained on the leaves fall on her as she jostles the bushes. 

After a few struggling moments underneath the bush, she could finally see through the foliage. Finn helps her up, and she finally gets a clear view of the hidden park.

She feels her mouth run dry and she's suddenly out of breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all for today's update! I hope you've enjoyed it.
> 
> NEXT UP: There's more on Finn and Santana's discovery, and then their sneaky operations go south. Chaos ensues.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! First of all, thank you so much for taking time and continuing to support this story. I really, really appreciate it. Here's another update, I hope you find this entertaining. Please let me know in the comments what you think. Also, it will make me so happy if you leave a kudos so we can reach the total kudos count to 30 for this update!

A placid lake lies before them, mirroring a vast portion of the cloudy skies. A wooden dock extends far into the lake, and a boathouse floats just next to it. A small island filled with trees and shrubs sits in the middle of the lake. A few yards away from the lake, a pavilion painted in pearly white stands in silent grandeur. Vines have grown on espaliers, with berries hanging off them, full-grown and ready for picking.

Looking back, Santana could see why Finn had thought the hedge was a barrier. From this side, the hedges are kept clean and trimmed. It almost looked like the hedges are meant to keep people away from this place.

"Wow, this is like a mini-paradise. This clearing is probably the size of a football field," Santana says in awe as she watches a flock of ducks lazily passing them by as they skim the surface of the water. “This isn’t the lake we can see from the house, is it?”

Finn shakes his head. “I don’t think so, that lake was smaller than this one,” he tells her. Finn holds a handful of berries to her. "Wanna try some?"

"You should wash it," Santana says. “You don’t know what sorts of things and microbes are in there, Finn. You could get germs or something and then you’d get sick.”

Finn sourly frowns. "It just rained."

“If you die, it’s your fault.”

The tall boy snorts. “Like that’ll happen. Come on, have a taste. They’re good.”

“If I die, I’ll sue you,” Santana says. “I’ll ask a billion dollars for damages.”

“You’re dead anyway,” Finn shrugs. “Doesn’t really matter.”

“I’ll haunt you.”

“Don’t be a wuss,” Finn snorts, popping one into his mouth but he promptly spews it out and he groans as Santana punches him in the ribs. 

Reluctantly, Santana took some of the berries and popped them into her mouth. The sweetness of the fruit surprises her, and she grins at Finn. The berries have a sweet-sour explosion on her tongue and it actually tastes good.

"See, I told you they're really good," Finn smugly says. He turns around him. "We should take a look around."

Santana and Finn take off to the direction of the docks. Finn keeps on eating berries he’s found along the way. A pale, white frog leaps right in front of them and Santana yells in surprise, but Finn just jumps after the frog.

“Did you see that? It’s so cool! Look at that!” Finn kneels on the mud, just a few feet away from the pale frog. It notices Finn and it leaps through the air. Finn claps his hands in glee and screams. “That was awesome!”

“Why don’t you try gross instead?” Santana rolls her eyes at him, but Finn just ignores her and he jogs to the docks, his eyes scanning the water.

A large fish swims close, its big bulging eyes staring eerily at Finn. He backtracks, and he stares at Santana. The Latina cocks a brow, as if daring him to say something. Finally, after a few terse moments, Finn’s face breaks into a grin.

“That was really awesome!” he says.

“Seriously Finn, you call it awesome? The fish was like...being weird and creepy and you call it awesome? You seriously need to get checked.”

“Admit it, it was cool. It must have been so big. It’s eyes must be as big as golf balls. Do you think your Abuelo would let us fish here?” he asks her rather incredulously. “That’s going to be so much fun.”

Santana just huffs and checks the boathouse instead, opting to ignore Finn’s ideas of fishing in the lake. She clomps to the boathouse, but when she checks the door, it is locked. On one of the espaliers, a large and bright-colored bird with a majestic crown of golden feathers perches. When the bird notices Santana, it flies away with a squawk.

“Did you see the bird?” she screeches at Finn, and the tall boy just nods.

Finn has already rounded the end of the dock. “The last time I was here, there were deers on the other side of the lake. There were golden owls too, but they flew away once they saw me,” he says as he takes off to the other side of the lake, sending the swans drifting away with all his ruckus. 

Unlike Finn, Santana tries to take in her surroundings much more patiently, absorbing the wonderful and majestic surroundings. The sun peeks through the clouds, and sunlight gleams into the water. 

She looks back to the boathouse. The structure is small, it must have contained just a few canoes and rowboats. She wonders if Abuelo would let them fish or paddle around the lake. On the other end of the lake, Finn yells and a flock of scared birds take flight.

She wonders if this was the reason why her grandfather had been so adamant that they keep out of the woods.

Santana cuts through her steak, watching with apt concern when the center sits with a glaring pink color. It’s almost bloody at the center. “Is my steak cooked?” she asks no one in particular, but she concernedly stares at the others, who are already taking mouthfuls of their dinner.

Rachel nods. “I cooked it plenty,” she tells Santana. “It’s okay to eat it.”

“It’s pink and bloody,” she bemoans.

“Only way to eat a steak,” Finn tells her. “If you cook it through, you might as well be eating leather. Do we have any ketchup, Rachel?”

“Why would you put ketchup on steak, Finn?” Will groans but he still hands the bottle of ketchup that Rachel had passed on.

“Will, you put ketchup on eggs,” Rachel reminds the curly-haired man. “I think it is perfectly well within reason if Finn puts ketchup on his steak. We weren’t complaining when you put ketchup on eggs.”

“Those are two different things,” Will tells her. “It’s a necessity.”

Santana grimaces. “That is disgusting,” she tells Will. She ventures to take a bite of the steak, and she could literally feel the flavors rolling along her tongue. She involuntarily closes her eyes as she savors the meat. She washes it down with watered wine.

“The steak is really wonderful,” she tells the housekeeper. Rachel blushes.

“Thanks, Santana.”

They eat in silence for a while, until Abuelo drinks his wine and dabs his napkin on his mouth. He clears his throat. “I have a question,” he starts to say. “What makes people very eager to break the rules when they are given?”

Santana’s hands still themselves over her plate, slightly hovering just above the table. Despite the question being addressed generally, Santana knows they’ve been found out already. Everyone stops eating, and Finn’s guilty look on his face is plain as daylight. Will looks confused, and Rachel’s lips are pulled into a tight line. Tubbers, the house cat, yowls angrily from her food bowl.

When no one answers, Abuelo continues speaking. “Does breaking the rules give someone pleasure and thrill?”

Santana stares at Finn, who is guiltily picking at his garlic potatoes.

“Were the rules being unfair, Santana?”

Santanan shakes her head. “No, Abuelo.”

“Finn, do I not let you explore and venture out in other places as long as you have done your tasks at the farm? Was that unreasonable?”

Finn guiltily shakes his head. “No.”

“Did I leave you with nothing to do and occupy your time, Santana? No pool, no tree house, no library? Didn’t I give you tasks and things to do while you are here, Finn?”

Finn sighs and he puts his spoon on his plate. “We had things to do. We’re sorry. I just wanted to hang out with Santana and I thought it’d be nice if she’d think of me as this cool guy who can be her best friend,” he finally says.

“Is that why you went into the woods?” Abuelo asks. “To look cool?”

Finn shrugs, looking like a kicked puppy. “I guess. I guess I got curious, too. I saw smoke coming up the woods one afternoon and I wanted to check it out.”

Abuelo shifts on his seat. “I warned you that there’ll be consequences.”

Santana huffs, clearly irritated that her grandfather is being very difficult. They’re just exploring the woods and Finn was just being nice to her. “So why are you hiding weird, creepy old ladies out in the woods, then? Is that why you don’t want us to go into the woods?”

“Weird old ladies?” Abuelo asks.

“Yeah, what about that?” Santana asks, her voice taking on an abrasive tone.

Abuelo nods thoughtfully. “She has an old rope. Did any of you blow on it?”

“Why would I blow on her rope? She’s freaky, we didn’t go near her,” Santana says. “We saw your private retreat, by the way. Was that also a reason why you didn’t want us to go into the woods?” she asked accusingly again, as if making sure to sound that she thinks her Abuelo is being selfish.

“That is my business,” Abuelo says, his tone clipped. “Yours was to obey the rules, for your own protection.”

“We’re not afraid of ticks,” Finn says meekly. He chances to look at Will, who looks disappointed at him, so he keeps his head down.

“Rachel goes into the woods, we saw her once,” Santana counters.

“Rachel has business going into the woods,” he sighs and he folds his hands over the table. “I wasn’t entirely honest about the ticks and about why you need to stay away. My land is a preserve for game and wild animals. Many of them are endangered. These animals include birds and mammals, wolves, deer, bears and panthers. There are spiders and snakes and insects that are equally rare and highly dangerous. I use chemicals and controls so they stay away from the farm and the yard but the woods are extremely dangerous places I don’t want you to go. Especially the island at the center of my private retreat, where venomous snakes and frogs are being housed.”

“I saw a white frog at your reserve, was that poisonous?” Finn asks. “I tried to catch it.”

Abuelo stares at Finn. “Had you succeeded, you would be dead by now.”

Santana watches as Finn visibly gulps. “I’m not ever going into the woods again.”

“I trust that you won’t Finn, now that you know how dangerous it is,” Abuelo says. “All the same, the both of you will still be given punishment. A rule loses its value when punishment is not given once the rule is broken.”

Santana splutters. “What? You lied to us, you told us about the ticks. I just thought you were treating us like babies!”

“You should have brought that concern to me,” Abuelo says. “I was clear about the rules.”

“You were unclear about the reasons!” Santana replies hotly.

“That is my right. I am your grandfather and I own this property.”

Santana glowers at her food. “But I am your grand-daughter, you lied to me. That’s not a good example,” she says and she almost snorts if she weren’t so riled up when her Abuelo blinks at her, unable to make a comeback.

Her Abuelo regains control in a matter of seconds and clears his throat. “It doesn’t matter. You broke the rules I’ve set and that deserves punishment. What do you think, Finn?”

Finn looks up from his plate, unsure of what to say. Santana glares at him and kicks him under the table, hoping against hope that Finn would put his brain cells to work and figure out a way so they can get out of this mess.

“Well,” he pauses, as if collecting his thoughts. He practically shrivels when Will gives him a disappointed look and Rachel stares at him with cold eyes. “You were right about us breaking the rules,” he jumps a little when Santana kicks him under the table the second time.

“But you weren’t fair for keeping the truth from us too,” he finally says. “If we had known about the dangerous animals in the woods, we wouldn’t have gone there in the first place. Santana was right, we just thought you were just treating us like babies. Give us another chance, and we promise, we’re not going anywhere near the woods.”

Abuelo clears his throat. “That’s unfair to me. The rules lose their power when punishments aren’t enforced.”

“How about this...” Santana finally pipes up. “Why don’t you give us a reduced punishment instead? Like, not the whole punishment?”

Abuelo strokes his chin, considering the idea for a moment. “Hmm, that could work for me,” he finally hums. “Two days of staying indoors for the both of you instead of a week. I might be able to live with that, what do you say, Finn?”

Finn shrugs. “That’s better than the whole punishment.”

Abuelo shrugs. “That settles it. You both stay in your rooms from tomorrow sunrise until the day after tomorrow’s sunset. You can only get out of your rooms to use the second-floor bathroom, but that’s just it. Rachel will be here all the time to watch over you and have your food brought up to you. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Finn reluctantly nods his agreement, while Santana sullenly stabs at her steak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it for this month's update! I hope you liked it.
> 
> UP NEXT: Santana discovers more about her Abuelo's house and she finds out a secret -- or a bunch of secrets.
> 
> See you next update!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Here's another chapter. I hope you like it. Apologies for the delayed posting of a new update, the power was down in my area.

Santana peers through the deepening twilight, straining to watch Will's retreating back. She had noticed him going into the woods carrying tin pans filled with some sort of liquid that looks a lot like milk that morning, and apparently, Will seems to be carrying the same tin pans into the forest as well.

Her curiosity peaks when she sees Will putting one of the tin pans under the hedge surrounding the yard. Will disappears into the first rows of trees in the woodland and something else entirely catches her eye.

Beyond the small lake behind Abuelo's house, she faintly catches a shadowy figure. It is bent and crouched, like the figure of an old woman. The shadow turns her way, and Santana immediately feels eyes coldly staring at her.

The door creaks open and she jumps out of her skin.

"Oh God, you scared the hell out of me, Rachel!"

"I brought dinner," Rachel says softly, seemingly unperturbed at all as she sets a tray on the table. The tray is filled with roasted potatoes, a bowl of vegetable salad, pork chops glazed in honey, and a tall glass of orange juice. For dessert, Rachel has brought her a strawberry parfait.

"Thanks," Santana mumbles. "I'm not hungry yet."

Rachel's face breaks into a serene smile. "It's alright. I'll come by to get your tray later," she says and the shorter brunette turns on her heel and leaves the room.

"Try knocking next time, Rachel," Santana grumbles as she starts to dig into the food, while Rachel just grumbles something under her breath and leaves the room.

Rachel has just gone when she notices a small piece of paper being slipped into the gap between the floor and her door. She tries to open the door a little, peeking out to see who sent the folded paper through the door, but she doesn’t see anyone.

She flips the folded paper, squinting a little at the messy handwriting that could only belong to Finn. At first, Santana doesn't understand what the hell Finn is talking about.

_ The telescope has a keyhole. _

She's not sure what telescope he's talking about. Then, it's as if it had clicked in her mind -- that Finn is talking about the telescope in the tree house.

It’s then that realization dawns on her. Having the telescope around means she could spend more time to spy on the weird and creepy things Will does, even from a distance. So, when Rachel comes by to get the plates later that night, she asks the shorter girl if she could have the telescope from the tree house.

"It's usually kept in the tree house, Santana."

"But I want it in here," Santana says. "I found a book about stargazing and I want to try it. Besides, I wanna use it to spy on you all," she says as an off-handed joke.

Something flickers in Rachel's eyes, but it passes briefly and disappears. The shorter lets out a sarcastic laugh. “Very funny, Santana. But fine,” she finally says. "I will have Will carry it up here."

"Truly?" Santana exclaims, not quite sure that it'll be this easy to dupe Rachel.

Rachel just nods. "I don't see why you shouldn't be allowed to use it."

Santana lets out a shriek, moving to hug Rachel. The shorter girl gives the hug back before going back to her task and stacking the plates on the tray and carrying it back downstairs.

Twenty minutes later, Will had carried the telescope into Santana's room. It's a massive thing, with copper stands and copper-colored bands and gears. Santana watches Will in awe as he sets it up, amazed at how each piece fit into one another.

"There," Will says as he wipes the slight sheen of sweat on his brow and he makes for the door. "Enjoy your telescope."

"Why were you putting milk under the hedge?" she suddenly asks, and Will stops on his tracks.

"What milk?" Will asks her back.

Santana shrugs. "Earlier. I saw you put one of those tin pans filled with milk under the hedge in the yard."

Will smiles. "Oh, that. Yeah. That one. It was milk," he finally says, his smile faltering a little. He quickly regains it and he smiles even wider. "But that's unpasteurized milk, Santana. Unprocessed and full of germs and bacteria."

"Why're you putting them there?"

Will shoves his hands into his pockets. "Promise to keep a secret?"

Santana nods.

"The milk is the secret why bees and butterflies and hummingbirds hang out in the garden and in the yard. They drink the milk," Will tells her. "And they love it a lot."

"Does Abuelo know?" Santana finds herself asking.

Will shakes his head. "Nope. I never mentioned it. Though, I think he has an idea and he's just not saying anything about it."

Santana chortles. "Does anyone else know?"

"No one else," he says. "Frankly, I am more afraid of Rachel finding out than of your Abuelo finding out about it. He wouldn't care for some spoiled milk, but Rachel? You better be assured she has something to say about it. So I appreciate it if we keep this between us."

Hiding a secret from her Abuelo doesn't sit right with her, and yet Will had said her grandfather probably knew about it. Besides, what's a few liters of spoiled milk if it keeps the gardens thriving?

So, Santana nods at him. "Yeah, I'll keep your secret."

Will grins. "Awesome."

The next day, Santana rises earlier than the sun. It's still fairly dark out, but the eastern sky is already having tinges of pink. The first thing she does is she searches for the keyhole in the telescope. She finds the keyhole on the mount base, and it looks as though the unlabeled key that was given to her could fit.

She tries to test it out. With shaking hands and a racing heart, Santana inserts the key to the keyhole, turning and twisting it until  **_something clicks_ ** inside and a small hatch opens at the base of the telescope.

Santana swallows thickly when she sees a leather pouch tucked into a velveted box. Gingerly, Santana takes out the pouch and she upturns it in her palm. Something wrapped in paper falls into the palm of her hand.

She takes out the paper wrapper, brittle and yellow throughout the years. It smells faintly of ink and musk, and it makes Santana's nose twitch. A golden key falls out of the paper envelope, and she almost misses the scrawny and almost faded writing that is written on the underside of the envelope flap. When she reads the writing, it leaves her even more confused.

_ To Open the Book of Secrets, The Last Key is in the Sword of the Night. -- JQF _

She snorts, pushing back the paper into the pouch and back to the velvet box. She locks the hatch and attaches her old key, along with the new one, into her keychain. What could the statement mean, and who is JQF anyway?

She fiddles a little more with the telescope just to keep her occupied. By now, there's a little more light streaming in through the foliage, although the sun is quite not beyond the trees just yet. Santana adjusts the knobs a little so she can see through the lenses clearly.

She watches several animals drinking in the lake just beyond her window. Birds perch from tree to tree. From her room, she could see a portion of the hidden lake. She pans the telescope to her side, where she catches a wiry tendril of smoke snaking up into the clouds farther out south of their house.

She couldn't see anything, but the smoke seems to have come from the bottom of a small ravine between two massive cliffs far south from the house. The bottom of the ravine itself is obscured by a lot of trees and foliage but there's a clearing where Santana could see a path winding through and into the woods.

Then, the next thing Santana sees definitely knocks the wind out of her chest.

Rachel emerges into the clearing, taking the winding path, seemingly coming from the ravine, with a basket slung in her left hand and a shawl wrapped around her shoulders.

She starts wondering what the hell  **_Rachel's business in the woods is._ **

Rachel comes up to bring her breakfast. She's now changed into a fresh set of clothes. She gives Santana a wide smile.

"Slept well?" she asks Santana as she sets the food on the table.

Santana nods. "I had weird dreams. I dreamed you were in a forest, wearing a green shawl."

If there's anything that made Rachel uncomfortable, the shorter brunette does not make it obvious. Santana snorts.

"I was a cow. I think we were going to the market or something," she says off-handedly, and Rachel smiles fondly at her. "I think you were trying to sell me."

By now, Rachel is laughing. "That truly is a weird dream."

Santana sits on her chair, and Rachel sits on the foot of the bed. Both seem to be unsure of what to do next, so Rachel finally awkwardly stands and takes her leave.

Once she's done eating, Santana stacks her plate on the tray so that Rachel could just get them when she fetches it. She starts to rifle around the bookshelf, looking for nothing in particular. Her attention to the books is taken when she hears two soft raps on the door.

Rachel stands by the doorway. "I'm here to get the plates," she softly says. Santana steps aside to let Rachel in.

She kind of just stands by the door, as she watches Rachel cleaning up with practiced ease. In a few moments, Rachel has finally whipped her table clean and is heading down the stairs.

Santana is back to the bookshelf, trying to find a book that could keep her entertained. She settles on reading some of the old books that had a hard leather cover. It's a story of a young man who got lost at sea.

She's five pages in when Abuelo knocks on her door. Abuelo seats himself on the foot of the bed, seemingly unsure of what to say or do. Tubbers, the house cats, makes herself comfortable next to Abuelo.

Finally, he settles on asking how she is.

"I'm bored," Santana bemoans. "But I understand we have to stay inside. We broke the rules so we have to pay for it."

Abuelo sighs. "Someday, you will understand that there are very heavy costs if you break certain rules."

"I know, Abuelo."

Abuelo stands from where he's sitting and he shoves his hands into the pockets of his pants. "Rachel can make you a paint-by-numbers kit. She is quite an adept in it. Maybe you'll like it."

He says it softly, and he leaves the room right away, before Santana can even jump a word in.

Rachel arrives in her room almost half an hour later, with rolled paper in one hand and a basket of paint in the other. She lays them on the table.

"Abuelo says you want a painting kit?" Rachel softly says. Everything that Rachel does seems really soft and gentle, always measured and controlled.

"He said I'd maybe like it," Santana says, watching as Rachel methodically puts the paper and the coloring materials on her table.

"Well," Rachel says once she's done. "I guess that's all of it. The areas to be colored are already labeled with the corresponding numbers in your paint kit. Have fun, Santana."

"There's like thirty colors in here, Rachel."

"Well, you better get started then," Rachel tells her and Santana fights the urge to roll her eyes. Rachel gathers her skirts and leaves the room.

Rachel immediately takes to the stairs, her footsteps echoing in the darkened hallway.

Alone again, Santana unrolls the paper and she's surprised at the sight. It's a beautiful picture of the hidden lake in the woods. The picture is drawn in such great detail, even the animals and the plants seem to be moving.

Slowly, Santana begins to paint.

She barely realizes the time passing by, not until Rachel comes up to bring her lunch. Rachel puts the tray on the bed and leaves her be, telling Santana that she'll come back for the plates later. 

Santana piles all of the stuff on the table, and she decides to eat on her bed because clearing the bed is lesser work compared to clearing the table. She piles the books she had taken out and starts to return them to the shelf when she realizes that there's a hinge screwed right into the back of the shelf.

Lunch on the bed forgotten, Santana starts to clear the entire section of the shelf, revealing a tiny hidden door. She flips open and realizes that it is a small metal vault with a tiny keyhole on its side.

She tries to fiddle with the lock, and realizes that it is secured. She wonders if the key she had found in the telescope could fit through the vault.

She takes out her keychain, her heart racing terribly like a rabbit on the run as she inserts the key into the keyhole. She hears a faint grating sound of metal gears turning behind the lock, as if some sort of mechanical clockwork is shifting and grinding behind the metal door.

Then, the door swings open and Santana beholds a leather book contained within the vault. It is brown and old and dusty, with its edges braced with some light, black metal. Binding the two leather covers is a dark, metal lock with a tiny keyhole, preventing it from being opened without a key.

"Great," Santana mutters to herself. "The famous book of secrets."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, thanks so much for reading this. I'm quite in a hurry, and I hope this doesn't feel really rushed. I'm kinda bummed we didn't get our 30-kudos target, but no matter, my friends. Please let me know what you think about this so far!
> 
> UP NEXT: Santana and Finn finally finds out "the truth" about her grandfather's place.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, I am so sorry for the delay of this update! I'm so sorry it took me so long to update.
> 
> That being said, I hope you enjoy this and it's not too late.

Being incarcerated in their rooms for two days kind of gives Santana a clearer perspective as to what is going on inside her Abuelo's property. By the end of the two-day isolation, Santana had come to a conclusion: something is really going on in her grandfather's vast property and she intends to find out.

She also intends to enlist Finn Hudson in that mission.

Rachel had cooked them baked Cornish hen, stuffed with savory potato and butter and then glazed with aged honey and wine. It had been so good, Santana could practically feel the chicken melt into her tongue and she had a second helping.

“I was thinking,” Abuelo says softly as they fork through dinner. “I had been really unfair to you, and for that I think an apology is in order. I have been very severe to both of you, and I have forgotten that you were just kids.”

Santana stares at her grandfather. After a few seconds, she finally folds her hands. “Apology accepted, Abuelo,” she says and Finn repeats after her.

“Thank you,” Abuelo says. “With that, I also would like to make it up for you. I have been considering things and, perhaps it is only right to maybe buy a TV and a computer once the school starts. After all, school openings will be here soon and well, time just flies by without your knowing.”

Santana tries to keep her composure, trying to make sure that she doesn’t look as though she  _ needs _ a television  **_that bad_ ** even if perhaps she does. Finn, on the other hand, pumps his fist into the air and does a little dance on his seat.

“Of course, the TV and computer will be purchased at the start of the school year,” Abuelo clarifies. “Provided that you don’t pull any other rule-breaking activities for the entire duration of summer, do I make myself clear?”

Finn grins childishly. “Yes, Sir!”

Abuelo smiles. “What do you think, Santana?”

Santana smiles at her grandfather. All she thinks about now is eating more of that chicken, but she nods at him anyway. “I think that is highly reasonable. We will refrain from breaking your rules and going out into the woods.”

The oldest Lopez claps his hands. “I think we have come to an arrangement. Best we have dessert then. Rachel has made pumpkin pie.”

Finn lets out a groan, complaining that he can’t stuff himself with any more food, but when Rachel had brought out the cake, he’s had three helpings of it. Santana had just one slice, and it practically made her forget her name.

“These are really, really good,” Finn says between mouthfuls of cake. “You’re like the best cook, Rachel.”

Rachel just shyly ducks her head, but not before a small, satisfied smile playing along her lips.

When they had finished dinner, they all pile up into the den. Rachel sits by the piano, idly thumbing across the keys and playing a random yet very soulful song on the instrument. Abuelo and Will have set the coffee table into a chess game, and though Santana doesn’t really hold interest in the game, she tries to follow their moves. Finn, on the other hand, starts to read by the fireplace.

“Queen to B-4,” her grandfather says as he picks up his white queen and moves it to one of the empty tiles. He starts to smoke on his pipe, and he lets out a small, billowy air that smells like tobacco and cinnamon.

Will sighs, studying the board for a few seconds before picking up a black knight. “Knight to C-6,” he says, and he puts the piece onto the tile.

Abuelo laughs. “Don’t try to get ideas. You want to put my queen into the belly of your knight?”

It almost feels like someone had smacked her right in the face. Of course, the note had talked about a “night” but it’s actually the night and it’s not an actual sword of a night it’s referring to. Santana covers her mouth, stopping herself from screaming. When Will looks at her with questioning eyes, she does a fake cough.

“You alright, Santana?” Will asks.

“Yeah,” Santana nods, but her eyes are trained on Will’s knights. “Just a little gassy, is all.”

There’s no indication that the knights could be holding a key. If they are, they'd be so small. She watches her grandfather move one of his knights. The crystal-white, glass-like material the white knights are made of is too transparent to even have a key in them. Will’s black knights, however, are made of dark crystal, and they could probably hide a small key.

Still, she needs to get a hold of those pieces if she wants to get a hold of the key, so she tries to figure out a way and she tries to think of a plan. The chess set is always displayed in the den, and getting to it is certainly not a problem, but getting the  **_key out_ ** certainly is one.

The game of chess barely registers in her mind and she barely hears her grandfather telling her it's time for bed.

The next day, morning dawns crisp and cold. Santana is up long before sunrise. Pale light is filtering through the trees as she crawls over to Finn's room.

She gives two soft raps against the wood before Finn sleepily opens his door.

"Whuddup, San?" Finn mumbles, wiping some drool off his cheek. "Why's you so ev'ry?"

Santana stares at him as he rubs his eyes. "Wake up, Finn. I gotta show you something," she drags him up to his feet. Finn shuffles sleepily, and she shows him the written note. "I found this in the secret compartment in the telescope. You remember the note you sent through my door, right?"

Finn blinks his eyes. “What is that? Wait, what note?”

”What do you mean, what note?" Santana asks, her brows arching high. "Didn't you send me a note through the door?"

"What note? I didn't send a note," Finn looks at her like she had grown two heads. "Whoa...what the hell, San…it wasn't me who sent you a note."

It dawns on the both of them that  **_someone had wanted them to discover the telesecope's secret compartment, the note, the vault and its locked book._ **

Finn mutters something under his breath as he holds the book in Santana's hand. “What is this? A secret book or something?”

Santana rolls her eyes. “Exactly. It’s a secret book with a secret key,” she hands him the hidden note in the telescope.

Finn scrunches her nose as he tries to read the note Santana had handed him. “Belly of the night? What’s that supposed to mean, like the key will show up in the dead of the night or at midnight or what?” he mumbles. “And who is JQF? Is that a code word or something?”

“I have no idea who he or she is, Finn. But whoever it was, they wrote the note and made it extra hard to understand,” Santana tells him as she shakes her head. “But I think I have an idea though, but I need your help. Can I count on you?”

Finn gives her a lopsided smile. “Man, I thought you’d never ask.”

"There's no screw or hidden holes here or what, Santana. What a dud," Finn says with a disappointed look on his face. He puts the knight back on the board.

Like all other pieces on the board, the knights are made with intricate and complex real-life designs. Made of smooth, dark crystal with polished wood for a base, the miniature model of a knight standing guard with his sword in front of him is quite mystifying to behold.

"Keep looking," Santana throws back at him as she keeps on perusing the other knight on her hand. "I'm sure there's something we can find."

Finn stares at the board hard. "Wait, wait, San. Take a look at this," he picks the knight again, tracing the length of the knight's longsword. "The sword can be taken out."

Santana mutters at Finn. "That's too small to be a key."

"It’s handle looks like it could fit in the hole, though. Why don't we try and see if it works?"

Slowly, Finn tinkers with the knight's sword until it finally detaches from the chess piece. Santana holds the book up, and Finn takes his time to fit the pommel of the sword into the lock. It fits with a soft 'click'.

Slowly, Santana could feel the tension between the covers ebb away, and when she opens the book, she only sees an empty page. She scans the page for any sort of marking or writing. She turns the pages and sees that the pages are empty.

"Well, what does it say?" Finn curiously asks.

Santana shrugs. "Nothing. It's empty," she says with a disappointed tone. "All that trouble for an empty book."

"Maybe it's written with invisible ink or something," Finn suggests. "Let's try and hold it towards the light," he says as he takes the book and he holds it up next to the window.

He squints hard but he sees nothing. He sighs, closing the book shut and giving it back to Santana. "Well, there's nothing in there," he tells her. "I'm going to the walnut farm, you wanna come?"

Santana shrugs. "Maybe later," she tells him, and she heads back to her room. “I’ll check this weird secret journal out first.”

Later that night, she flips through the empty journal, trying to decipher a code that probably doesn't exist. Throughout the day, she had tried putting it under light, smearing it with lemon juice and heating it, but none of it works. She flips the pages lazily, scanning through the paper as though something might magically appear. On her third try, she finally notices a very small handwritten note on the spine of the book.

**_Drink the milk._ **

Santana scrunches her brows at the writing. She's not sure if the milk she's supposed to drink is regular milk or the ones Will had kept in tin pans.

_ But Will had warned her about how the milk is not supposed to be consumed. _

Santana knows what she needs to do, she feels that it's the mysterious milk Will has been putting under hedges -- she only needs a guinea pig.

Finn is slurping through his bowl of cream by the time she has gone down to the kitchen for breakfast. He's almost finished, so she decides to just jump right into telling him.

"I found something out," she says, casually spearing a strip of bacon with her fork. Finn looks up from his bowl.

"Something cool," she emphasizes, and she knows she has gotten Finn's attention. "I can't tell you about it, but I can show you."

Finn sits there, seemingly considering it for the moment. "Is it cooler than the lake?"

Santana shrugs. "Duh," she says with a matter-of-factly tone. "Do you have someplace else to go? I promise it won't take long."

Finn shakes his head. "Not at the moment, no. Will can go ahead to the pressers without me."

"He won't be suspicious?" Santana asks.

"I'll figure something out," Finn finally says as he drains the last of his breakfast. "You said you wanted to show me something?"

Santsna nods, almost excitedly. She pipes down when Rachel’s head pops out of the pantry door and asks them if everything is okay. "Yeah, right. Of course," she says as she slips out of her chair and she motions for Finn to follow out to the backyard.

“You’re trying to show me the pool?” Finn mutters as Santana leads him to the hedge where she knows Will had kept the tin pan of milk earlier during the day. She rummages through the undergrowth, with Finn shifting on his feet.

“Stop being an ass,” Santana glowers at him as she takes out the pan from under a clump of bushes. The hummingbirds that are feeding from it fly away.

Finn raises a brow at her. “So the birds drink milk? That’s weird.”

Santana nods in agreement. “It is. But that is not the point. Taste it,” she tells Finn.

“Why?”

“You’ll see,” she answers as cryptically as she could muster.

“Have you tried it?” Finn asks instead, his eyes still fixed on the milk with some leaves floating on it. “It looks dirty. It might be dangerous. I remember Will telling me it’s dangerous to drink unprocessed and dirty milk.”

“Just try it. It’s not like you have to drink the whole pan, you can dip your finger in it and just try the milk,” Santana insists, but Finn gives her a sideways look.

“It might kill me,” Finn says bluntly.

“It’s not,” Santana growls. “Come on, just try it.”

“Have you tried it?” he asks again.

Santana rolls her eyes, clearly exasperated at Finn. “Yes! Just taste it and you’ll see!”

Reluctantly, Finn bends over and dips his finger into the milk. Puckering his lips, he takes a lick of the thick, creamy liquid and puts it into his mouth. “Sweet. Creamy and warm. Kind of like the cream of wheat stuff Abuelo gives us for breakfast,” Finn notes.

“Sweet?”

Finn nods, standing straight. Suddenly, he jumps to his feet, screaming and pointing at a spot right at the bush behind Santana. His eyes are bulging, his mouth hanging open and there’s a look of terror and confusion painted over his face.

“WHAT ARE THOSE THINGS?!”

He bellows it out so loud that Santana is surprised too, and she almost drops the pan of milk, sloshing it on her hands. She turns around, but she only sees butterflies and hummingbirds behind her. She looks back at Finn, who is now turning in circles and scanning the whole yard with eyes wide as saucers.

“THEY ARE EVERYWHERE!” Finn bellows again.

Santana’s brow scrunches. “What?”

Finn turns to her. “The...the fairies?” he stammers, unsure of what to call the things he’s witnessing. “Oh God, it must be the milk! You haven’t tried the milk, haven’t you? Gosh, this is so much cooler than the lake!”

Santana stares at Finn. Maybe the milk had totally fried his brain. If Finn were acting, he’s totally gotten it nailed. If he’s messing around with her, he’s surely in character. She watches as Finn leans over a rosebush, trying to touch a butterfly, but the insect just flies away and Finn looks so crestfallen.

**_Drink the milk._ **

Santana eyes the remainder of the milk in the pan. She dips her finger into the pan and tastes it. It’s sweet and warm, and it reminds her of their breakfast concoction. She tries to look around, and for an instant, the morning sun blinds her eyes, causing her to blink in reflex.

Then, she sees  **_everything._ **

Finn is right. They are all over the place -- winged creatures not bigger than the palm of her hands. The only thing she could come up to call them are fairies. Many of them are wearing clothing that resembles the color of nature -- hues of greens and browns and yellows.

She couldn’t contain a shriek when an exceptionally adventurous fairy flies by. The fairy hisses at her face, its narrow, slit-like eyes flashing angrily at her.

“Do you see it?” Finn is already crawling on the grass, advancing on a group of three miniature fairies who are chattering in a strange language.

She could only nod. All around them, at least a hundred miniature women with wings flutter by. Many are brown-haired and resemble human beings. Others are not so much. Some have dark-brown hair, others have golden hair. Some are hairless and bald. Others have leaves for hair. Some are carrying things like twigs and leaves, going about their business.

Her head is reeling with so much visual information that she feels dizzy. The colors flying by are no help at all. Finn keeps chasing a slender creature in an olive-green slip across the yard until he trips on his feet and bumps into her, causing the two of them to fall on the ground in a heap.

Suddenly, the fairies seem to stop their activities when a looming shadow falls on them. Looking up, Santana sees her grandfather’s grim face, his dark-brown eyes cold as stone as he looks at the two of them sprawled on the ground.

Abuelo clears his throat. “We need to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading through this. And I have no words. I am sorry again. I hope you hang in there, friends. Things are finally getting better.
> 
> UP NEXT: Abuelo finally explains the true nature of the estate.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Here's another chapter. Just a disclaimer, this is unbeta-ed. Also, I don't own Glee or its characters (sucks). I hope you enjoy this one, though.

“Are we in trouble?” Finn whispers at her as they sit on the leather chairs in her grandfather’s study.

Santana stares at the grandfather clock just behind Finn. Occasionally, a fairy flits by outside the window of her grandfather’s study. Her grandfather had just left them, after leading them into his office. It’s the first time that any of them had been here, for the room had always been locked.

“We better not be,” she answered him after some time. “There were no rules about drinking the milk, and we stayed in the yard,” she says. She had actually prepared the comeback in her head as they were making the trip back into the house.

After all, it’s Abuelo who had given her the key to the telescope in the first place, he had meant for her to drink the milk. The only thing she had messed up with is that she had used Finn as the guinea pig to try out the milk. However, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had uncovered something that’s supposed to stay hidden.

Not only they discovered the truth that fairies are real, but they had also discovered that there are possibly hundreds of fairies in her grandfather’s yard.

Finn laughs nervously. “You’re right. We didn’t break any rules,” he says as he nervously wipes his brow with the back of his palm. “Is that a fairy skull?” he points to a small, thumb-sized skull encased in a glass box gilded with gold sitting on Abuelo’s desk.

“I guess so,” Santana says, watching the item with perplexed eyes.

The door to the study opens and Abuelo walks into the room with Rachel behind him, carrying a tray filled with tall glasses of lemonade. She sets it up on a side table and gives each of them a glass to drink. Reluctantly, Santana accepts the drink. Rachel leaves the room as soon as Abuelo sits behind his desk.

“It’s quite impressive how quickly you had solved the puzzle,” Abuelo tells Santana. He coolly takes a sip from his lemonade.

“You wanted us to drink the milk, didn’t you?” Santana says.

Abuelo shrugs. “Assuming you were the right kind of people, then yes. I didn’t know you, at all. All those years not being there as you were growing up left me with no idea about your character. I could count in my hand the times I have seen you in all your seventeen years, Santana. I had hoped that the kind of person who would take the trouble to solve my little puzzle would be the kind of person who could handle a preserve of magical creatures and magical beings. Ravenskeep is too much to handle for many people.”

“Ravens--what?” Finn finally says. “Oh it’s you, you’re the one who sent Santana the note, and you wanted her to crack the code. Were you the one who is named JQF? Is that some kind of codename or something?”

Abuelo sighs, folding his hands on the desk. “The man called JQF is one of the previous caretakers of Ravenskeep. This preserve was founded hundreds of years ago, and it serves as a refuge for mystical creatures. The stewardship for the preserve had been passed down from caretaker to caretaker over the years.”

“Where is JQF now?” Finn couldn’t help but ask. “Does his name stand for something?”

Abuelo smiles a little, it’s melancholic and sad. “He’s dead. And his name is well-hidden,” he clears his throat. “Just to be clear, he did not die here. He died in an expedition far from here. He was the caretaker of this sanctuary long before I came here. That’s all I can talk about him.”

“You said mystical and magical creatures,” Santana asks. “Does this mean there are more than fairies here?”

Abuelo nods. “Those aren’t fairies that you saw earlier, Santana. Those are pixies. And yes, Ravenskeep houses beings that are more perilous than pixies or fairies. It is the true reason why I restricted the woodlands in the first place,” he tells them somberly. “There are only certain types of creatures and beings that are allowed in the yard.”

Santana takes a sip from her lemonade. “So, the milk?”

“The pixies love them. When mortals consume it, their eyes are opened to the unseen world. The effects wear off after a day,” Abuelo tells them. “We make it in the barn. There are dangerous creatures in the barn, so it’s still off-limits.”

Finn moans. “Everything is still off-limits,” he sulks. “To be honest, I’ve been in the woods seven times already and I’ve always been fine.”

Santana’s eyes widen at Finn’s confession. “Seven?”

“All before we got caught,” he tells them hastily.

Abuelo shakes his head, looking concerned. “You were lucky your eyes were still closed by then,” he tells Finn pointedly. “There are many places you would have ventured to and you would not have made it back. Of course, now that your eyes have been opened and the veil between this world and their world has been pulled away, many creatures can now interact with you readily and this means the danger is much greater.”

Santana narrows her eyes at her grandfather. “No offense Abuelo, but is this the truth? You’ve made so many versions of why we’re not supposed to be in the woodland, so many I don’t even know what to believe in or if you were telling us the truth this time.”

Abuelo sighs. “Yes, this is the truth, mija. And I am very sorry for all the previous times I lied to you,” he tells her, the sincerity not lost on his voice. “Discovering Ravenskeep is not something like discovering a treasure trail or a fun place. You don’t have to believe me now. You’ll have ample time to confirm my words.”

“Will and Rachel, do they know?” Finn asks.

Abuelo nods. “Yes. This is also partly why Alma and I have kept Rachel homeschooled,” he tells them. “Rachel looks after many creatures that only she has the capacity to look after. You might not expect this of her, but she is adept in caring for magical creatures.”

“So the animals we saw at the lake are magical creatures?” Santana clarifies.

“Most assuredly,” Abuelo answers. “Those fishes you’re seeing? They could have been water sprites. The colorful birds that perched the trees? Perhaps those are fairies. The lake is a very hazardous place, Santana. Return there now, with your eyes open, and you will find the water sprites beckoning you to the water, ready to pull you into a watery death.”

“But that is so cruel, Abuelo!”

Abuelo unfolds his hands over the desk. “They have no concept of death being morally wrong. To them, your life is nothing but a blip in their long lifetimes. It’s ridiculously short that your death is just amusing and funny, just so much like squashing a bug. Besides, they have a right to punish trespassers, especially when you get to the center of the lake.”

“You mean the island?” Finn asks.

Abuelo nods. “Yes. The island belongs to the elves of Ñoldhir, the Deep Elves. In their tongue they call the island Gilraeth, the Isle of Eyes. They have built a shrine to the Elf Queen there. Mortals are not allowed to walk on its shores. A long time ago, one of Ravenskeep’s caretakers rowed to the island and the moment he set foot on its shores, he disappeared into a cloud of dust.”

“Why would he go there?” Santana asks. “Didn’t he know?”

“He had a desperate need and sought to ask for help from the Deep Elves. Apparently, the Elf Queen was not impressed. They say only the purest of intentions could set foot on the shores of Gilraeth, but it has never happened in any of the history of Ravenskeep. There were no written records nor even spoken about it.”

“Does the Elf Queen live on the island?” Finn asks.

“No, no my boy, she doesn’t live on the island,” Abuelo says, shaking his head. “Gilraeth is merely a shrine to the Elf Queen. There are elves who live there, though. Deep Elves who take care and maintain the shrine.”

Suddenly, Santana remembers something. “But there was a boathouse in the lake, Abuelo. If it was so dangerous, why is it that there’s a boathouse there?”

“Someone who lived here once had a fascination with the water sprites,” he says softly.

“The same one who turned into dust?” Finn asks.

Abuelo shakes his head. “A different person,” he exhales. “It’s a very long story. You should ask Rachel about it sometime, she knows the tale better than I do.”

“Why do you live in such a scary place?” Santana bemoans.

“We have been with Ravenskeep for generations, Santana. You just don’t realize it,” he tells her. “We have kept with pretending we are normal folk, and to be honest most of our family is. There are just a few exceptional people in our family who have turned their eyes to the magical world and helped in the protection of it.”

Santana stares at him. “Does Abuela know? Do my parents know?”

Her grandfather shrugs, a tearful mist coating his eyes. “Yes. Your parents knew, Santana. Your Abuela knows. That’s all there is to say,” he clears his throat, effectively straying away from a sensitive topic. “It’s not as dangerous as you think it is. It’s only frightening in places where you don’t belong. This preserve is consecrated ground, it’s foundations are governed by laws and treaties that cannot be broken by creatures who dwell here. There are places that certain magical creatures cannot walk on, like the yard, the lakeside, the barn, the poolside, and a few more places where people frequent. The pathways are hallowed ground where dangerous animals cannot walk on. As long as mortals like us remain within our boundaries, trust that these creatures will remain within their boundaries as well. We are all protected by the founding treaties.”

“Treaties?” Finn asks.

“Agreements ratified by all orders of enchanted beings who dwell in Ravenskeep,” Abuelo offers. “The specifics of the treaties are complex, but they are based on the law of retribution. If you don’t bother them, they won’t bother you. If you wrong them or hurt them, there will be consequences.”

Santana sighs. “This is why we were afforded with so much protection when we cannot see them, right? Because we cannot openly interact with them, and if we bother them, it is unintentional and thus easier to forgive.”

“But now we can see them,” Finn supplies. “Which means we are at a greater risk.”

“Which is why you must be careful. The fundamental law reminds all that mischief should be paid with mischief, violence for violence, magic for magic. This includes trespassing boundaries. When boundaries are trespassed, they may cause an uproar or worse than that,” Abuelo says, his eyes serious. “If you go where you don’t belong, you could leave yourself open for dangerous and vicious retribution from powerful beings that love you not.”

“So only the good creatures can come into the yard?” Santana asks. “Like the pixies?”

Abuelo lets out a laugh. "Hardly. These creatures have a different way of defining what is good. At the very least, the creatures permitted in the yard are merely not evil."

"So the pixies are not safe?" Finn asks.

"I can assure you they're not out to harm anyone," Abuelo says. "If they were, I'd never let them into the yard."

"Do they talk?" Santana asks, hoping that she might one day talk to a pixie.

"Not in a language that's known to man," Abuelo tells her. "They have a language of their own, though it may sound as though a chattering to our ears, be assured that they are talking."

"Do they understand English?" Finn pipes up.

"A few do," Abuelo says. "That's why Rachel is around to help me. She is fluent in languages spoken by many of the creatures in Ravenskeep. Besides, the pixies barely care for human affairs. They consider those not of their race beneath them. Pixies are very self-centered creatures. They only care for themselves."

Santana clasps her hands together. "That's why they kept watching the mirror, they were fixated with their reflections!"

Abuelo rubs his chin. "Outside places like Ravenskeep, you'll barely get a glimpse of them. They're very elusive. They consider seeing them the ultimate delight. That's why they refuse to be seen. Most nymphs and water sprites are like that as well."

"What about here?" Santana asks. "They seem not to care."

Abuelo smiles. "They do care. It's pretty funny, actually. You'd think they will not care about what we think of them but try giving a pixie a compliment and the others would flock to you, wanting to have their turn."

"I think pixies are pretty," Finn says.

"They're gorgeous!" Abuelo exclaims. "And they help me so much with the garden and in growing the plants. But safe? I don't think I can warrant that."

"So if we stay out of the woods and stay away from the barn, we'll be fine?" Santana asks.

"Yes," Abuelo affirms. "Though you kids can still go through the woods and enjoy the scenery, just in certain places and always with adults around. Many creatures cannot tread on the property near the farm, the vineyard and the pressers. The house is the safest place in all of Ravenskeep, protected by many enchantments that allow only the gentlest of creatures to walk its premises."

The two teens are quiet, seemingly absorbed at the gravity of the things around them. Abuelo clears his throat.

"Of course, there are nights and days on which there are exceptions," he says, shifting on his great leather seat behind the desk. "Litha is upon us."

"Litha?" Finn furrows his brow. "Who's Litha?"

"Not a who," Abuelo corrects him. "Litha is the summer solstice. On the eve of Litha, a great festival is celebrated by the magical world. On such nights, the only place you'll be safe is inside the house and nowhere else."

"We met an old lady in the woods," Finn blurts out, and Santana gives him a death glare. He looks like he could pee his pants off.

Abuelo's knuckles are white as he grips the edges of his desk. "A true example of why you should not venture the woods out on your own. You have wandered into her abode, and it would have proven hazardous. She had two knots on the rope she’s gnawing, you didn’t blow on it?"

"Ugh, I wouldn’t ever go near her, why would I blow on something she’s been chewing on? Santana said with disgust. “Is she a witch? She seemed pretty angry when she was asked if she is one.”

"She is," Abuelo nods at her. "Her name is Maelin Wyllt, the lesser known twin sister of Merlin. The shack is not her home, but her prison."

"Merlin as in the wizard in the stories?" Santana sputters out.

"One and the same," Abuelo nods sagely. "Maelin Wyllt goes by many names, most prominent of them is Langoureth and Gwendydd, but her name was erased in history for a reason."

Santana is tempted to ask why, so very tempted, but her Abuelo beats her to it.

"Merlin is a clairvoyant. He had seen Maelin in his visions, and at a very young age, he had known what would happen if Maelin would be armed with magic. So her parents stunted her magical abilities and forced her to live a non-magical life."

"So why is she a witch then?" Finn asks. "If she was forced to live a normal life, how come she was able to do magic?"

Abuelo stands, and he looks out of the window, his brown eyes scanning the treeline across the lake. "The Wyllts are a prominent family in the Briton village of Cathmarten in the early eleventh up until the twelfth century. A few bad eggs here and there, wayward family members, but the Wyllts have kept to their reputable name. Merlin had visions since he was young, and when he had voiced out his concern to his father about his twin, Balaenor Wyllt was forced to send Maelin away to the countryside with her mother and sisters, where they lived in a cottage. Later on, the sorceress Grimhildr had caught wind of the potent power inside Maelin, how or why, it was never told. But, Grimhildr had disguised herself as a crow, and taught Maelin dark magic."

Santana taps on her chin. "But you said Maelin lived with her family in the countryside, surely they must have noticed when our girl turned whack."

Abuelo sighs. "People like Grimhildr will not hesitate to trick, lie and kill just to get what they want. Dark magic practitioners are very cunning, and Grimhildr is the most cunning and dangerous of them all."

"So how did Maelin get here?" Finn asks curiously. "Because I get that this happened far away, and a long time ago."

Abuelo shrugs. "She was brought here by ship. There are many, many ways to transport a prisoner. She has been here since Ravenskeep was founded back in 1767."

"She has been here that long?" Santana squeals.

"She had been contained in a different prison for far longer. With magic, time is...different," Abuelo says. "Let's leave it at that. But let this be a warning to the both of you. Until you are older, you have no business in the woods without adult company."

Finn sighs. “I get it,” he says.

Abuelo sighs. “Enough about old monsters and rules,” he says as walks back to his desk. “I still have chores to do, and you have a new world to explore. You can still go around and see for yourself. But remember to stay in the yard.”

“Can’t we go with you?” Santana asks.

“Not today,” Abuelo says. “Maybe one of these days.”

Santana smiles, laying a hand at her grandfather’s arm. “Okay,” she tells him sincerely. “I want to know and learn as much as I can.”

Her grandfather smiles delightedly at her. “Of course, I will teach you the trade. As much as I can.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UP NEXT: Santana learns more about Rachel and the beautiful boat house.
> 
> Thank you for reading this chapter! Let me know what you think by sending me a comment. If you liked this, don't forget to leave a kudos!
> 
> Also, my Twitter is @artisturtle -- let's be besties!


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